Ail of the South
by PoisonBones
Summary: Hakoda and the Southern Water Tribe warriors are returning home after two years at war and sea. They are blood sick, and wish nothing more than to return to the comfort of cold snow and warm furs. But they are in for a surprise, and not the good kind. A plague has struck the village, infecting nearly every inhabitant. Their world is falling apart around them, what will they do?
1. Chapter 1

Hakoda stood at the hull of the ship, staring out into the icy tundra as the afternoon sun drifted closer to the horizon. It felt good, being in familiar waters, they probably weren't even a two day sail away from the southern water tribe.

He walked back along the main dock. The men were all doing their respective work, trying to look disinterested, but Hakoda could not be fooled. He saw their eager glances, heard the happy whispers. All of his men were thrilled to be near home again after a long two year absence. Hakoda himself was positively brimming with excitement. Katara was fourteen now, and Sokka's sixteenth birthday was fast approaching. He couldn't wait to see his son and daughter again, no doubt they'd grown. He'd be there to take Sokka ice dodging.

That thought made him smile. Hakoda's own father had died before he had gotten the chance to take his son ice dodging. Bato's father, Palo, had been the one to take him.

"Glaciers and rapids!" Nunka called, pointing ahead of the vessel. Hakoda looked out in front. Sure enough, thick spears of ice jutted out of the sea, corroded near the bottom where fast moving water had ran against it diligently.

"Bato!" Hakoda called, gripping a flank rope and pulling it to the left, "Pull right! Kwan, open the sails! Nunka, help him!"

The ship jerked left and right as they guided it through the ice, and Rou almost got thrown over the edge. A large piece of ice stuck off the side of a glacier in front of them, causing the boat to steer dangerously to one side, and throw a wave of ice cold water onto Hakoda's face and down the front of his parka. It took some effort, but after a long several minutes the ship steered into clear, still waters.

Hakoda pulled the rope taut again, holding it in place against the wind. He would need to do so until it died down, "Good work." He said, "We should hit land within a few hours."

Hakoda fidgeted as he stood up straight. The ice water running along his chest and down into his trousers, soaking into his skin and making him shiver. His brown hair, firm after many hours in the cold weather, stuck to his forehead in thick, stiff strands. Rou saw the convulsion of discomfort and took the rope from his hands.

"You should go change. You'll catch cold in those wet clothes."

Hakoda nodded, releasing the sail hold, "I'll be back in a few minutes." He looked across the deck. There were chunks of ice scattered about it, from one had stuck over the boats edge, and had to be knocked off in order to avoid damage to the ship. The deck was soaked, and if it didn't get dried off they would all be sleeping on soggy seal skins, "Start cleaning up this deck. I want it dry as possible before sundown."

A murmur of agreement wafted across the deck, and Hakoda turned and dropped beneath. He closed the door to his cabin and began to peel off his wet clothing, grimacing as it made sucking sounds against his skin. He stripped off everything but his underwear and stockings, being as them and his boots were the only things that hadn't gotten soaked, and began to quickly tug on a new set of clothing. He left his wet clothes along the dry railing to air out, before returning to the deck to help with the cleaning.

OoOoOoO

Hakoda took his dinner in his cabin instead of with the rest of the men, and he ate his food rather noisily as he attempted to review his maps. He couldn't though, and after his fifth attempt he gave up entirely. He took his bowl to the wash basin and had slipped beneath the covers of his cot.

They were so close to home that he could practically smell the fire as it burned slow and warm within the tent. He could feel the thick snow crunching beneath his feet and hear the light scratchy voice of his mother. But most of all, he could hear both Katara and Sokka's laughter as they chased penguins. He remembered the day he left too.

Sokka had taken it well, and even tried to go too.

" _I'm coming with you."_

Katara however, had been less at ease.

" _Don't touch me! How can you just leave? It's not fair, I hate you! I hate you and I hope you never come back!"_

Hakoda closed his eyes at that memory. That long suffering painful memory. Those words had echoed in his mind for weeks after they left, months even. He knew how hurt she had been, he had seen it plain on her chubby, youthful face. It was the same hurt he had felt the day his father's body had been brought to shores by the men. It wasn't a physical pain, unless you counted the automatic constricting of the chest, it was purely emotional.

It had not taken long for Hakoda to recover from his father's death, since they weren't particularly close, but Katara….. It was not that Hakoda was dead. He was very much alive, battle worn and blood sick, yes, but alive, that was what pained her. She felt abandoned, and alone.

Perhaps Hakoda could redeem himself. Yes that was it, he would redeem himself. He would be there.

 _I promise,_ He thought to himself firmly, _that I will never leave my child ever again when they are in pain._

He drifted into a deep slumber.

OoOoOoO

"Hakoda!" Someone pounded hard on Hakoda's door.

"Alright, alright!" he shouted. He groaned slightly as he pulled himself up out of bed. He shuffled over to the door and yanked it open.

"What?" Rou, who had been pounding on the door in a mad frenzy only moments before, chuckled at the sight of his bed-raggled chief, who blinked at him blearily through half lidded eyes, unaware that his boxers were hanging loosely at his waist and his tunic was shoved over his shoulder.

"We've docked. The village is within sight." That woke him up. He saw the light in Hakoda's eyes as he spoke those words.

Hakoda nodded quickly and ferociously, "Alright, give me a minute to dress myself. Start the morning chores. Don't go to the village yet, we have things to do before, unfortunately."

Rou nodded and turned and went up the steps. Hakoda heard him happily shout the orders and shook his head with a smile. He practically yanked his clothes on and walked out on the deck with his parka only half tied. His lips broke into a jaw splitting grin when he looked out over the vessel. Large snow drifts covered the land, and big sheets of ice glistened painfully bright in the mid-morning sun. It was beautiful, but the best thing of all was the small, discreet village on the horizon.

Innu, the youngest on the ship at nineteen years old, practically bounced over to his side.

"We fixed everything up!" He said brightly. Nunka came up behind and, at twenty, wore the same boyish, hopeful expression on his face.

Hakoda glanced around the deck. The ropes were knotted sloppily, the sails rolled loosely. A complete disaster compared to what it should have looked like. But he also saw the men, every single one of them was on deck, standing frozen, and looking at him in anticipation.

He nodded, "Alright men, let's go home."

A cry rang out, and everyone smiled happily, but instead of approaching the drop off, they all approached Innu. Innu shrank back, confused as to what was happening. He was lifted off the deck and into the hands of his companions. Held high above their heads, Innu flung wildly. They brought him over to the edge of the ship.

"What the-!" He began, but could not finish before he was dumped over the side, into a pile of cold snow and wet slush. Innu sat up sputtering, and scrambled away from the shoreline.

Standing on solid ground, he called, "What was that for? Some kind of sick joke?"

Hakoda threw his head back and laughed.

"Consider it a rite of passage." He shouted back. It was tradition in the water tribes to try and bring a new soldier each time the raided or went to war. And when they returned to tribe, it was a sort of initiation to throw the new recruit over the edge. Of course, no one told them that.

They all exited the boat and crunched across the fresh snow. They spread out a little, giving each other room to breathe instead of huddling together like they would have on a battle ground. But this was not battle ground, this was home.

They chatted merrily, and playfully shoved one another as they walked on, drawing closer and closer to the village. Hakoda, who had been in a deep conversation with Bato, did not notice the approaching figure.

"Hakoda." They all stopped. Hakoda turned and faced the newcomer, and once again he smiled wide with happiness.

"Mother!" He exclaimed, wrapping Kanna in a bone crushing hug. The elderly woman patted her son on the back, but showed little to no enthusiasm.

Hakoda pulled back and held her at arm's length, still smiling, but the smile left when he saw her grim expression.

"Mother….?" He questioned skeptically, "Is everything alright."

Kanna glanced among the men before she looked at Hakoda again.

"You cannot enter the village. You must return to the ship."

Murmurs broke through the crowd, and Hakoda released his mother.

Innu stepped forward, looking upset, "What do you mean we can't go to the village?"

"You must go," Kanna said more forcefully, pushing Innu on the chest for emphasis, "It is not safe here."

"Why?" asked Kesuk, stepping forward as well.

Kanna looked at them all sympathetically before speaking. Her words were enough to stop any man in his tracks.

"The spirits have cursed us." She said mournfully.

"A plague has struck the village."

 **I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while, and I have finally found time to sit down and write it. Please leave me a review; I'm not really sure how people will react to this. Should I continue?  
-PoisonBones**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! I had a couple of you guys tell me that I should continue this, so I am (duh). This chapter has very little Sokka, but next chapter will have lots so enjoy!  
-PoisonBones**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the setting of the southern water tribe or the canon characters, only the plot and OC's are mine (Innu, Rou, Nunka, Kesuk ect.)**

" _A plague has struck the village."_

The words hit Hakoda like a brick, and he could feel the dumb expression on his face. Behind him, the men went silent. It was Innu who was able to speak first.

"B-but….wha- who has it?" He stuttered, a look of horror consuming his features.

Kanna swallowed, and her eyes flicked between all of the men.

"I will let you see them," She decided, "However; you will not be allowed to sleep here. You can visit during the day but you go at night."

Hakoda stared at her, as if trying to decide if she was being serious or not, before nodding.

"Okay." He said slowly. Kanna motioned for them to follow, and they all simultaneously fell into a single file line behind her. Hakoda could practically feel the angst his men were emitting, and he could not hide his own dread. He prayed that Katara and Sokka were both safe and healthy, not lying on their death beds.

Dead.

"Mother?" He asked lightly.

"What?" Kanna's voice was clipped, as though she didn't exactly feel or want to speak. He didn't blame her.

"Has anyone… Passed?"

Kanna's steps slowed for a moment, and she lifted her chin just a bit higher.

"A babe." She said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Koko, Auga's little girl. Died in her crib not two nights ago, burned her this morning."

Everyone heard Kesuk's breath quicken lightly, but no one addressed it, they knew why. Auga was Kesuk's wife; she had been only three months pregnant when they left for battle. Hakoda gritted his teeth; this was not how he had wanted to be greeted back. This was not how he wanted his _men_ to be greeted back, with death and plague running rampant in the tundra.

The snow and ice crunched loudly beneath their feet as they came to the village. Tents had been taken down, the wood stacked in a neat pile next to the roundhouse. The snow dogs were tied up to a post, looking hungry, and sick. Kanna led them to the round house.

"We've moved everyone in here. It makes it easier for Saghani to tend to the sick. Plus everyone infected fits with extra room."

The opening had been made large enough for a polar bear dog to fit through. Or a body to be carried in. A door made of woven thicket had been put in front to keep in heat. Kanna reached forward and pulled it away, stepping aside so that the men could enter. Mats had been lined up all throughout the room, tent flaps were being used as blankets and sheets, and each one seemed to contain a body. Pathways had been made between each one in order to allow people to pass through. Saghani, the healer, was at the back of the room, lighting an assortment of incenses, and anointing candles with oil.

"Spread out," Kanna spoke from behind them, "Find your family."

The men began to walk around, eyes searching for their loved ones, kneeling at their mats and kissing and holding their family. Kanna grabbed Hakoda's arm, pulling him forward, and he followed without question. She led him to the back of the room, and brought him to sit beside a mat.

The mat contained a boy, about fifteen years old. His skin was dark, and his brown hair was pulled back into a wolfs tail, although the sides were shaved. He was wearing a plain blue tunic and pants. His mukluks had been left at the end near his feet, and an otterwolf pelt had been pulled up to his chin.

"Sokka."

 **OoOoOoO**

Katara stood at the edge. A hole the size of a man had been carved, or rather bended, into the ice. The water was crystal clear, and an immensely green plant could be seen growing at the bottom. It was called yarrow, Katara had learned, after having a long tearful conversation with Saghani. It reduced fever, and encouraged proper flow of minerals. They were running low on supplies, and Katara had taken it upon herself to collect all the things they needed. She had already collected the opium and the emetic, all the needed was the yarrow. Which grew beneath icy waters.

Katara shivered violently as she pulled off her parka despite the warmer weather of the approaching summer. She left it on a patch of ice, as to avoid getting snow inside of it, and it was quickly joined by her pants, leggings, coat and tunic. She tugged off her boots and stockings, standing in the middle of the arctic in nothing but her underclothes. Holding her breath, she dove in.

The water was so cold that it was painful. She clenched her jaw hard and swam to the very bottom, ignoring the pressure in her ears. She fisted her hands around the wet roots of the plant and pulled as hard as she could. The roots yanked free and she quickly made her way to the top.

Pulling her way up onto the ice, she reached for the leather pouch, shoving the plants inside. Katara looked into the back and frowned. The bag was only a third of the way full. She gazed to the other bags, which she had filled to the brim. She would need to go back for more.

Katara put the pouch aside and gazed at the water. It felt like swimming in acid, it was below zero above the ice, Katara was wet, and to top it all off, she could already feel her butt cheeks starting to freeze together. There wasn't exactly any harm in doing so.

Katara stood, standing at the edge of the hole again, and dove in.

 **OoOoOoO**

Hakoda ghosted a hand across Sokka's face. Sokka groaned at the touch, and his eyes shifted beneath closed eyelids.

"He fell yesterday." Kanna said, "Carrying fishing nets through the village. Just plum dropped in the snow, already burning up."

Hakoda swallowed, "Is he going to die?"

"Perhaps." A voice spoke behind him. Hakoda turned to see Saghani standing behind him, "He is just the same as the others, and until I can send someone out for herbs there is nothing much I can do but try and make him comfortable and we've already lost one."

Hakoda swallowed again, this time audibly, "Right. Do you know who all is infected?"

Saghani nodded, "Auga, Maru, Qilaq. Tlate Hiin came in last night just after Sokka. Couple of the children, and Sila."

Saghani looked downward grimly. Sila was her daughter. She about eight, and lovely, with caramel colored hair and dark chocolate skin. Her blue eyes shone like gems and Hakoda swore you could see them a mile away in darkness.

"What is it?" He asked.

Saghani frowned, "What is what?"

"The plague. Do know what it is?"

Saghani shook her head, "I'm afraid not. The only information is that it starts with a fever, you drop, vomit blood and white foam, then you're dead."

She looked at him solemnly.

"Where is Katara?" He did not see his daughter among the mingling people in the room, and she had not been perched at her brother's side like he knew she would've been.

"I haven't seen her all morning. She might be asleep somewhere. She stayed up all night tending to Sokka." Saghani said, "I have to make my rounds. Feel free to look for her, but please be careful if you go near ice, it's starting to soften in the sunlight and I won't be caught taking care of any hypothermia this week."

"Alright." Kanna said, waving her off. She turned to Hakoda.

"I saw Katara going for the drifts this morning. We'll start looking there."

Hakoda gave one last look at his son, longing for the ability to make him healthy again, before standing and following his mother out of the roundhouse. They located a trail of footprints looking out into the tundra.

"They're Katara's." Kanna said. They began to trudge through the snow, following the path closely.

They walked in silence for about fifteen minutes before Kanna stopped.

"Look." She said, pointing out to the ice. In the dead center of the white covered plain there was a big hole in the ice, and beside it was a pile of clothing.

"Katara!" Kanna yelled, "Katara!"

As if on cue, a girl lifted her head from the water, coughing and hacking.

"Katara!" Kanna's voice filled with panic as both she and Hakoda rushed towards her. Upon reaching the hole, Hakoda reached down and pulled Katara up and out of the water. Kneeling on the ice, he brought her to his chest, yanking her parka from the ground and wrapping it around her.

"D-d-dad?" She stuttered out. She stared at him blankly, before curling closer into his chest.

"Shh it's okay." He said as soothingly as possible. He looked down over her. She was in her underwear, her skin a feint gray color. In her hands, am vibrant green plant stuck out in between her knuckles. He pried it out of her grasp and handed it to Kanna, who shoved it in a bag and lifted off the ground, carrying her remaining things towards in the direction of the village.

"Go quick." Kanna said, and Hakoda began to jog towards the village, Katara bouncing in his arms. He took her into the roundhouse and settled himself dangerously close to the fire. Saghani rushed over and began to examine her.

"So much for not treating hypothermia." Hakoda muttered

Saghani looked at him sternly, "I said I won't, and I won't. She doesn't have hypothermia, she's just cold."

Hakoda breathed a sigh of relief and she chuckled.

"Ulva! Bring me an extra blanket." Saghani called to her assistant, who began to immediately fulfill the task. Brought over a thick otterwolf pelt and went to attend to Aput, a little boy of about nine, who was moaning repetitively while his mother, Buniq, wiped his head with a cloth, doing her best to keep it together for her boy.

Hakoda wrapped the blanket around Katara when Kanna entered the roundhouse. Depositing Katara's clothing at the door, she carried the three pouches over to the fire and handed them to Saghani, who peered into the curiously.

"Oh!" She said, a bit surprised. She looked up at Hakoda and Kanna, "I take it she's wet since she went diving for yarrow, yes?"

Kanna nodded, "Looks that way. Smart thing, useful."

" _Stupid thing_ you mean," Saghani said, "But yes, useful. I'm going to dry these."

Hakoda nodded and looked down at his daughter. The color was returning to her cheeks, and her hair was drying.

 _La, she looks just like my mother,_ Hakoda thought. She was beautiful, with her dark hair in a braid. She had a slender body, and her breasts, which had quite obviously come in while Hakoda was busy bashing fire nation soldiers, stuck off her chest plain as day. He wrapped the blanket around her a little tighter, shifting himself so that he could feel the heat of the fire himself.

Kanna touched his shoulder, "I'm going to finish the chores. Keep her warm."

Hakoda nodded for what felt to be the millionth time that day. He really didn't feel like answering anyone. His daughter nearly froze to death, and his son had the plague.

He wondered why.

 **OoOoOoO**

They ended up moving Katara to a mat beside Sokka, so that Hakoda could look after both children at a time. Katara got better quickly, by sundown she was breathing steadily, but she was still asleep. Hakoda sat in between both mats, a hand laying on each of his children's chests, eyes closed and doing nothing else. Just focusing on the steady rise and fall of his hand when his children breathed.

Coughing ruptured the silence of the room, and Hakoda looked up to see Buniq rubbing Aput's back as the boy retched into a bucket.

" _It starts with a fever, you drop, vomit blood and white foam, then you're dead."_

Saghani's words echoed in his head. Hakoda closed his eyes again and tuned out the noise. He had decided, about an hour ago, that the spirits were antagonists. Playing endlessly with them, striking them down in battle, or sickening their fragile mortal bodies. It was evil.

"Go on. Shoo." Kanna swatted Shilo in the back of the head and pushed him out the door. She was sending them back to the ships. Hakoda moved to stand, but stopped.

"Dad." Hakoda looked over to Sokka's mat first, hoping his son was conscious enough to learn that his father was back from war, but turned to Katara's when his wasn't. Katara blue eyes were looking at him tiredly.

"Dad, I'm sorry." Katara's voice was small and raspy.

Hakoda leaned towards her, "Sorry for what?"

"Telling you that I hate you." At first, Hakoda was confused, but then he understood. She was talking about the day that he left.

"It's okay." He said soothingly.

"I don't hate you," She said softly, "And I'm glad you came back."

Hakoda felt glad to hear those words, but he couldn't smile due to the circumstances. Instead he settled for brushing her hair back from her forehead.

"Shh, it's okay. I know." Katara's eyes fluttered closed, and she drifted off back to sleep. Hakoda leaned in and kissed her forehead. He turned to Sokka, but instead of kissing like he had his sister, he just gently brushed a hand against his sons face. Sokka didn't even stir.

Hakoda stood and walked out of the tent, his face set like that of stone.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Hakoda found himself drowned in an array of chosen chores. He brought blankets and water, he helped Saghani dry her herbs in the smokehouse, and, much to his and the other men's dismay, he sat still as Kanna showed him the simplicities of cooking a plain fish stew.

Meanwhile, Saghani had condemned Katara to her sleeping mat; if it were up to her she would have glued his daughter in place. But Katara was stubborn, and before noon she was up and about, helping everyone through the stress, but mostly sticking to Sokka's side, bathing his head with a wet cloth, and occasionally tapping his face in an attempt to wake him. He had stayed unconscious through a majority of the night, only waking long enough for Saghani to sit him up and force feed him a small bowl of warm broth before passing out again.

It was now long after sundown, and Hakoda was sitting in between his children's two mats just as he had the night before. Nearly freezing to death and then working a full day had tired Katara, and she had fallen asleep the second her head hit the mat. He had worked up the nerve to ask Saghani why the infected and the healthy slept together in the roundhouse, while the men all had to sleep on the ships; it was merely a way of making it spread. He was not surprised at her answer though, especially not the way she phrased it. Saghani was not known to sugar coat things, she was going to tell you the flat truth, whether you liked it or not.

"Plague is ruthless, Hakoda," She had said snappily, "It doesn't care who you are or what you do, if it wants you, it will take you, it does not discriminate. This place is home to me, Hakoda, its home and I love it. But it's rubbish. We're nothing more than a speck, it takes a little fifty paces to get from one end to the other, and we know bacteria spreads faster than that. Anyone here is in just as much danger sleeping on the other side of the village as they are sleeping right next to someone sick. I don't see the point in trying to protect someone from the near inevitable. That's why Kanna wants you all on the ships. You haven't been as exposed as much as everyone else, you all have the best chance of making it out of here alive."

Hakoda grunted to himself. He didn't like it, but it was the truth. They were tiny; nothing was to keep them all from getting the plague and dying on a worn animal fur, with their families hovering over their sick beds in tears and hysterics.

In that instant, Sokka broke into a violent coughing fit, and Hakoda whipped his head to the left to attend to him. There wasn't much he could do; just sit there with a hand on his son's chest until the hacking sub sided, and Sokka was staring up at his father with blood shot eyes. He groaned softly and turned his head to see his sister.

"K-Katara?" He called weakly.

Hakoda grabbed his chin and pulled his head forward.

"Shh, she's fine." He said. Sokka stared at him blankly, his breathing ragged, before furrowing his eyebrows together in a tired confusion.

"Dad?"

Hakoda nodded with a small smile, "Yeah, yeah it's me bud."

Sokka looked over to Katara again, "Is- is she sick, too?"

"No," Hakoda shook his head, "She's fine, she's just sleeping."

Sokka looked back up at Hakoda. He had Kya's eyes. A dark, sapphire blue.

His eyes were slightly hazed, as though he was only half aware of what was going on, half focused.

"Are you thirsty?" He asked. Sokka swallowed, and nodded. Hakoda waved to Ulva, who brought a small cup of cold water for him to drink. Sokka drank in small sips, waiting a few seconds before each drink. When he finished, Ulva took the glass from his lips and pushed a small green leaf past his lips.

"Chew." She ordered. Sokka chewed lightly before swallowing, having just enough energy to make a pained expression.

Lying back on his mat, Hakoda pressed a wet cloth to his forehead. Sokka coughed again.

"Dad?"

Hakoda looked down at him, "What, son?"

"Who else is sick?"

"Most everyone." He said solemnly, "Myself, the men, Katara, your grandmother, Nasak, Saghani and Ulva are the only ones uninfected so far."

Sokka nodded slightly, "Is anyone dead?"

"Kesuk's child. Koko, I think her name was."

"Nng." Sokka eyes drifted shut, and he was asleep once more. Hakoda dipped the cloth in the bucket of melted snow once more, grimacing at the warmth and dark coloring of it, and pressed back down onto Sokka's forehead. He turned to Katara. She was sleeping on her side, half of her face buried in the animal fur, the other half revealed, but incontent. Even in her sleep she looked troubled. He brushed a small strand of her dark hair back, resting a warm hand on her cheek. She shifted downward, pressing her face deeper into his palm. She relaxed a bit, looking a little more peaceful. Perhaps-!

An ear splitting scream filled the roundhouse.

Hakoda whipped around. Buniq had her hands pressed to her face screaming and crying into her fingers.

Hakoda leapt up and made his way over, jumping around the stirring bodies of the children, and the disgruntled sick. He knelt down beside her. She buried her face into his shoulder on instinct. Her wrapped an arm around her shoulder and began looking around, looking for the cause of her outburst. He noticed almost immediately.

Buniq's son, Aput, was lying back on his mat, his skin pale and ashen, his eyes open and unblinking. Hakoda reached out and grabbed the boy's hand. It was cold, he was dead. He'd probably been gone for a few hours, but Buniq had been so absorbed in chores that she had not taken the time to notice.

Hakoda tipped his head back to the ceiling and held Buniq a little tighter as she sobbed.

 **OoOoOoO**

Aput's body was thrown on a fire the next morning, his little form wrapped in his bed mat. Every healthy being in the village excused themselves from tending to the sick for a few minutes to honor him, before drifting back inside in silence.

The day was a blur, made up mostly of the same chores as yesterday. Saghani admitted all the sick an emetic, and the mothers sat beside them as they all brought up blood and saliva. Kanna, knowing that there was no need for the men to sit beside those who already had someone, sent all the extra of them back to the ship, to bring any rations they had left to the village. Sokka had Katara, so Hakoda was free, Aihi had Ulva, so Innu was free, and Bato had no one.

The three men all trudged up the gangplank, knocking snow off their mukluks as they went. Innu lagged behind a bit. Hakoda hadn't noticed, but Bato had called for him to slow down a little, to give the boy a chance to keep up.

They all went below deck and entered the storage room. There was only one box left, which Bato would carry, while Hakoda and Innu would grab things that could be of use from around everywhere else. He was currently in the spare cabin, wrapping up rope from the closet and a couple of fishnets. He walked over to the desk and began to dig through drawers. Paper? No, ink? No, spare satchels? Yes, Hakoda shoved them into the makeshift bag he had created out of tied netting. He shoved in the hunting knives and the spark rocks, and, finding nothing else, was about to open the closet when a sharp thump resounded on deck.

"Hakoda!" Bato voice echoed. Hakoda ran down the hallway and up the steps, not sure what to expect. When he reached the deck, he found Bato on his knees, hovering over Innu, was lying on the deck, moaning in pain.

"He's burning up." Bato said looking fearfully at Hakoda. Hakoda dropped the bag by the door and rushed over, pulling off his gloves and pressing his hands to Innu's forehead, making the boy cry out. His skin was hot to the touch, and Hakoda flinched as it connected with his frozen fingers.

"Get him up." He said, "We'll come back for the supplies later, right now we need to get him to Saghani."

With arm slung over each mans shoulders, Innu was quite easily lifted, and they pulled him in the direction of the village. They shoved past the thicket door and nearly fell on the front walkway.

"Hey." Bato called. Ulva looked up from her position beside Aihi and gasped, rushing forward. They laid Innu down on a mat. Ulva pulled off his boots as Hakoda and Bato removed his parka. Nasak, Nunka's little brother, came over with an otterwolf pelt and did the best job of covering Innu with it as an eight year old could. Ulva pressed a cup of water to his mouth, urging him to drink, but Innu just moaned and pressed his lips together into a thin white line. Saghani came over from the other side and brushed the men away, bending down to examine him.

"He's bad," She said, removing her hand from his face, "He'll be lucky if he survives the night."

Saghani looked to Ulva, "If you value time with your son I highly suggest you don't leave his side, if he's still breathing tomorrow morning I will treat him. Until then there are those who need my attention more." She turned to Hakoda, "Sokka is awake. Vomiting stopped about two hours ago, he's eaten and drank. He's conversing with Katara now."

Hakoda turned to Bato, "Can go back to the ship for the supplies?"

Bato stared down at Innu, slightly lowering his chin in answer, "Yeah, I can. Go see your kids."

Hakoda nodded. He squeezed Ulva's shoulder and gave Bato a small look of apology before making his way to the back. Sure enough, Katara was sitting beside Sokka's mat, talking lowly about something while Sokka lay on his furs, looking sick and tired, but awake.

"Dad!" He called as strong as he could, before breaking into hacking fit. Katara leapt forward and placed a hand on his chest as Hakoda kneeled down.

"Hey," He said, one Sokka's coughing had subsided, "I think this is the first time I've seen you both awake at the same time."

Katara hugged his middle tightly, pushing him back into a sitting position. He chuckled and hugged her back.

Releasing Katara, Hakoda looked at the small pallet and chalk piece Katara had placed beside her mat.

"What's that for?" He asked.

Katara looked back and picked it up, "I was working on my letters. Gran-Gran says I'm terrible at my alphabet, but I've been practicing. Want me to show you some?"

"Sure." Hakoda said with a smile, "What about you Sokka?"

Instead of an answer, Hakoda received a soft snore in acknowledgment. He looked at Katara.

"I think we bore him." Katara smiled ever so slightly, and proceeded to show him her alphabet.

Hakoda watched, not really making out the words, but listening to his daughter's voice, listening to Sokka's breath. If Innu didn't make it through the night, what were the chances of Katara living? What were the chances of _Sokka_ living? So he sat and listened to their words and breath.

He didn't know how much longer he would be able to hear it.

 **OoOoOoO**

The full moon hung high in the night sky, reflecting off the ocean like a mirror. Hakoda paddled his canoe out into the water. He used to do this with Kya on nights like this, take the canoe out into clear waters, and just sit there.

He put the paddle into the floorboard and sat with his hands in his lap. There was nothing within sight, not a single glacier, nor a single iceberg, and he to be at least a mile away from the village. It was just him the moon and the boat.

"He is nineteen." Hakoda said, speaking into the silence, but it was a no brainer who those words were meant for.

"Innu is nineteen." He said again, this time including his name, "And Aput, the boy couldn't have been more than nine."

He raised his voice, "Is this your idea fun? Is this how you get your kicks? Taking innocent lives, innocent _children_ from their families?"

Hakoda stood up into the boat, "We do everything for you. We worship you. We feast in your honor. The Northern Tribe throws festivals like you wouldn't believe in your name, and this is how you repay us? By taking our loved ones away at such tender ages?"

He was yelling now.

"Innu! Tlate Hiin! They were planning to marry you know? And no doubt they would've raised their children to worship your sadistic damndest selves!"

"Oh great and mighty _spirits,"_ Hakoda lowered his voice to a menacing growl, before yelling again.

"Aput! He was nine! And Buniq, his mother had him and him only! She and Shilo would have had more children had she not become sterile. But that's your doing as well isn't it!? Isn't it?"

He grabbed an empty mollusk shell from the bottom of the boat and threw as hard as he could, huffing in anger as it hit the water with an empty _plunk._

"Oh," He yelled, looking up into the sky, teeth gnashing together, "I forgot your great and mightiness. It's not my place to question your motives; it's my place to lay down like a dog while you toy with us!"

He snatched up a handful of mollusk shells, pitching each one even harder than the last, each time he hit a soft point in the one sided conversation.

"You've taken everything!" Plunk. "My father!" Plunk. "My brother!" Plunk. "My wife!" Plunk. "And now you're just going to stand to the side and threaten to take my son! How much can you make me suffer!?"

Hakoda released all of the shells at once, sending them flying in a spray of deadly projectiles. Kanna would scold and chastise him, standing in a boat, all alone, having a tantrum as he cursed the spirits. He couldn't find it in himself to care. He was angry. So unbelievably _angry._ He wanted to throttle someone, mainly the one who thought it fun to release a plague on his home. But he was also hurt, and scared. He'd lost his father in battle, his brother in a fishing accident, and his wife in a raid. He had gone through many events of deep emotional pain, and he wasn't sure if he could do it again.

Sitting down hard, Hakoda snatched the paddle up and began to make his way to shore.

He pulled his canoe into the snow, to keep it from floating out, and went in the direction of his ships where he would sleep, kicking up snow and grumbling.

He was so preoccupied by his little fit that he did not see the dark hooded figure standing on the shoreline, calf deep in the icy water.

The figure slowly backed out, revealing pale, bare feet. The figure tipped their head back and pushed off their hood, their face now illuminated in the light.

It was a woman. Her raven hair was pulled back into a Mohawk of sorts. Her skin was pale, her eyes yellow, with a line of dark tattoos along her left brow. Her face broke into a mouthy grin, revealing a line of straight white teeth. And she spoke into the night, her voice was beautiful, but it was filled with biting venom.

"All suffering has a purpose," She said aloud to herself, "It is long and painful, but it has a purpose."

She smiled wider, "And your suffering, Hakoda, of the southern water tribe,"

"Your suffering has only just begun."


	4. Chapter 4

The pallet in the head cabin had once been a safe haven, a small, comfortable, rectangle of protection after a long day of battle. But now it wasn't. Now it was a hard, unforgiving board that made Hakoda itch to break something, and he lay on it in tense discomfort as an awkward fold in the pelt beneath him rubbed the skin in between his shoulder blades raw. He could hear the other men clanking about on deck. He guessed it was around mid day, he wouldn't know. The men had let their once punctual habits fall loose, and Hakoda had slept well into the morning. Even when he woke he didn't leave his pallet.

He had not been sleeping well the past few days, and if the circles under his eyes were no indication then he wished someone else could feel the fatigue that had settled deep into his bones. He did not eat much, attempting to try and preserve what little food they had for the young and sick, and what little water he drank came from sucking snow. Kanna paid little attention, and Katara failed to notice due to her consistent fretting over Sokka, who needed it more.

Hakoda swung his feet down off the cot, grimacing as his stale socks hit the ground with an unpleasant noise, and then made his way onto the deck as he pulled on his parka.

None of the remaining men looked much better than himself. There were only six men left from the eleven in the village (if you counted Sokka, which he did), and they were all sitting around deck, fiddling with odds and ends, waiting for Kanna to signal that it was safe to come back to the village. At around sunhigh two days ago, everyone took a turn for the worst. Fevers spiked, food regurgitated, blood spit up. Kanna had sent them all away immediately, telling them that if they were to even consider coming back before she signaled them she would personally castrate them. They had all returned to the ship sullenly, lazing about, sleeping through the night, and then repeating. There wasn't much to do on the ship. They weren't moving, so nothing needed watched or pulled or manned, and really what else do you do on boat?

"Hey, she's here!" Nunuq shouted, pointing out over the boat. The men all scurried over to where Nunuq was standing and peered out over the edge. Upon seeing Kanna approaching them in the snow, the all began to ask questions.

"Can we come back?"

"Has anyone died?"

"Have they gotten better?"

Kanna raised her hand for silence.

"No, you may not return just yet." Grumbles and angry jabs were made, and Kanna glared at them all briefly, before raising her chin in high position, "However, we are all in need of food. It would be useful if you would fish and hunt. Not only would it replenish our stock, but perhaps it would do something to ease your minds for the time being."

Hakoda nodded with no words. He went to the small cabinet attached to the hut on deck and swung it open. Reaching in, he removed the nets and the hunting harpoons. He tossed them in the men's direction, not caring that the harpoons were sharp and someone could get hurt.

"Get going." He said flippantly, "We split into groups of two. I'll go with Bato, Rou with Nunuq, and I want Nunka and Kesuk together."

Hakoda swept his arms out, gesturing to the ocean as the men picked up their needed supplies, "Three groups, three directions. Mother, is Saghani using the smokehouse for her herbs?"

Kanna shook her head, "No, and it's unoccupied, you can bring your catchings there."

"You heard her." Hakoda said. The men all paired together respectively and trudged down the gangplank towards the canoes. Bato gave Hakoda a long, contemplative look, but didn't press on to ask questions.

Hakoda was thankful for this. Had someone asked him right then if he was alright, he would have exploded.

 **OoOoOoO**

Hakoda leaned back against the front of the canoe, letting out a long breath. Bato hunched, leaning over the edge of the canoe slightly, the sharp hunting harpoon perched on his shoulder in ready position. At Hakoda's noise of discontent Bato spent him a glance.

"What?" Hakoda asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

Bato shook his head and returned his eyes to the water. He could see its shadow beneath the canoe. He was a large thing, perhaps the length of Bato's arm. His scales were silver, and they glinted in the light of day. His back fins, a light blue in the sun, spurred up a little as he came to a slow swim beneath them, feeling the men's presence, but electing to ignore it. This decision led to his demise. The harpoon was out of Bato's hands before Hakoda could so much as blink, and the rope was pulled tight, ripping back and forth through the water as the fish thrashed, blood bubbling up to stain the water red.

Bato leaned his body back, clearly struggling while pulling the fish into the boat. Hakoda just watched. He managed to pull the head over, but was barely able to keep it in the boat as he groped around in the red water for its tail. He found it and, gripping it tightly in his slippery fingers, hoisted its back end up and into the boat, all while Hakoda watched.

Finally, the fish sat in between them, lying sideways in the boat, belly towards Bato. Hakoda scanned the fish with his eyes. It was huge, long as Bato's arm, and quite fat. It could feed the village belly full for near a day, and any leftover pieces could be contributed to two days worth of broth and stew, along with the spare bones for small trinkets and subtle uses.

"Nice." Hakoda said. Bato scowled.

"Yeah. Thanks for all your help by the way, much appreciated."

Bato spent no time rolling up his sleeves and pulling off his sopping wet mittens. He retrieved a whale bone hunting knife from his pack and began to dress the fish. He looked at Hakoda back and forth as he worked, only once glancing long enough to spur his friend.

" _What ?"_ Hakoda bit out. He wasn't angry, Bato knew him well enough to know that, but rather he was attempting to be mean in order to be left alone. Bato wouldn't have it, but he had ways of opening Hakoda up without starting a fist fight in the middle of the ocean.

So he shook his head and looked back down at the fish, "Nothing, nothing at all."

"Then why do you keep looking at me?" He snapped.

Bato looked back up at his friend, his patience waning. Was there a nice way to put this? Nope. Bato dug his hand into the open belly of the fish before him grabbed a handful of thick, meaty, blood covered pieces.

Holding them up for Hakoda to see, he said, "You see this? This is what you look like."

Hakoda sat up from his laid back position and pulled off his mitten. He reached forward and lifted a long stringy piece of the fish guts from Bato's hand and threw it at the man across from him. It stretched across Bato's chest in midair before falling into his lap, leaving a long red line from pit to pit on his parka.

Bato threw the guts into the water, but instead of rinsing his hand off, he smacked his blood covered palm into the center of Hakoda's forehead. Hakoda froze for a moment, feeling the sticky wetness in his hair, feeling his skin tighten as the blood began to freeze in the cool air. He retaliated though, and it wasn't long before the two were in a fight of sorts. There were no closed fists, so it was more like a sissy fight that you would see in a school yard. Quick smacks and pushes, occasional hair pulling. They probably looked ridiculous.

It all stopped when Hakoda tackled Bato, leaping over the fish and shoving him back against the seat behind him. Bato cried out slightly, baring his teeth in a grimace. Hakoda straddled him easily, pushing down on his chest in order to keep him from jumping back up. They were both breathing heavily, glaring at one another. Hakoda shook his head.

"You are _so_ not worth it." He said childishly. He climbed off of Bato's chest and turned to go back to his seat. When he had one foot over the fish, Bato launched forward and tripped him. Hakoda fell forward, smashing his chin on the hard wooden seat and sinking two teeth through the side of his tongue.

"You may be above continuing stupid disputes," Bato said, climbing onto Hakoda's back and pulling him over to face up, "But I'm not."

And so it continued.

Diligently.

Laughter, loud and brimming with mirth suddenly filled the tundra, echoing off the ice and ricocheting across the water. Bato and Hakoda stopped their slapping and pulling long enough to turn and look behind them. There, along the ice and snow, was Nunka and Kesuk. Kesuk wore a small grin, eyebrows raised, indicating amusement, whereas Nunka's shoulders shook heavily, his hands half suspended in the air, mouth agape, straight out _bellowing_ with laughter. Bato and Hakoda hastily separated themselves, both scrambling to sit stiffly on the respective ends of the boat.

"You're supposed to be on the other side of the glacier fields!" Hakoda shouted.

"Why?" Nunka replied, choking on his laughter." So you can fight like a bunch of schoolgirls in privacy?"

Hakoda's face flushed beet red and he turned away. Bato, whose face was as equally colored so, had the confidence to shout back.

"Have you caught anything?"

"Two tuna." Kesuk replied.

"Take them to the smokehouse, we'll catch up."

Nunka waved a hand as Kesuk picked up a paddle, "Later ladies!"

"Who you calling a lady little girl!" Bato shouted back, his face darkening further. He turned back around began to remove the last of the guts of the fish, "I hope he falls out of the boat."

Hakoda snorted, "Wouldn't that be something?"

 **OoOoOoO**

The daily catches weren't much. There was Bato and Hakoda's fish, the tuna Kesuk and Nunka had pulled, and a small octopus that Rou and Nunuq had managed. It was quite bountiful on simple standards, but they would no doubt have to go fishing again in a few days. Nevertheless, the remaining six men all began to scale their catches and cut the meat into edible slivers. They were halfway finished when Kanna entered the smokehouse, her face long and sullen.

"Hakoda, Bato. Let Nunka do that, I need your help."

The two shared a look before rinsing their bloody hands in a bucket of melted snow and following Kanna out into the snow. She began to lead them towards the roundhouse.

"Mother," Hakoda spoke up, "What are we doing?"

Kanna pushed aside the thicket door in silence, not acknowledging Hakoda's question, appearing unaware that she had even heard him.

"Leave it open." She said as Bato moved to close it.

"Mother, what are we doing?" Hakoda repeated.

Kanna looked down, "Bodies."

Bato frowned, "What?"

"Bodies." Kanna said again. "We lost five today."

Hakoda felt his breath hitch in his throat. Five. They had lost five people in a day? It was awful, the plague was getting worse.

"I need you two to wrap them up and put them on the burn pile." Kanna said. She kept her voice flat and emotionless, but beneath was a distinct tone of grief. Of strife and helplessness, Hakoda noted.

He nodded, "Alright, where are they?"

"Outside," She said, "They were beginning to stink."

 **OoOoOoO**

The corpses had all been lazily piled over one another, all turned face down, disabling Hakoda from identifying them. Kanna had supplied them with old worn out pelts and a single tattered tent cover to wrap the bodies in.

It felt as though someone had shoved a ball of otterwolf fur in the back of Hakoda's throat. With a thick swallow, he set the pelt down and turned over the first body.

Maru, the kind woman that had once cared for Sokka when he had gotten sick for first time after Kya died.

Hakoda tried not to grimace, but he did anyway. Her skin was pale and ashen, her eyes sunken deep into her skull. Her face itself looked like a skeleton. She had become so thin in her last days that every bone in her once plump face was eerily defined. He and Bato made quick work of her, binding her tightly in the tattered tent cover. Hakoda laid her body out on the burn pile. With a face of stone, he turned to the next.

Shilo, a fierce warrior, husband to Buniq, and proud father of Aput, the little boy that had died several days before.

His eyes were open, staring out into the blue sky with a dead glare. Hakoda shut them. He and Bato wrapped him in an otterwolf pelt, tying it in place with a strip of brown cloth. They laid his body out beside Maru's, leaving a small bit of room in between them. Bato rolled over the next, being as it was small, and if Hakoda were to touch a dead child he would snap.

Nilak, Nunka's little sister, fraternal twin to Nasak. Bato remembered, she had always insisted on doing everything that boys did. Being the only girl in her family, she found it a small sense of normalcy.

Bato wrapped her in a fox pelt, the dull orange in deep contrast to the white snow. He laid her out gently in between Maru and Shilo, letting the little girl take comfort in an adult's presence one more time. Maybe they would scare the monsters away. He and Hakoda rolled the next one over together.

Innu, Ulva and Rou's eldest son, a new warrior, the youngest official one in the tribe, having only seen a single battlefield.

Neither of them even looked at him as they bound his body in an otterwolf pelt. Bato remembered the first time they had stopped on their two year journey. Bato and Hakoda had seen plants and sand and expensive wood before, having been on journeys before Innu was so much as a twinkle in his mothers eye. Innu hadn't, they had all been tempted to yell at the boy for wandering off into the humble earth kingdom town, but they didn't. Instead they hung back a small ways, watching in amusement as the seventeen year old ran about, from stall to stall, in awe and admiration of everything that so much as blew in the wind.

They laid him out on top of Shilo, the two bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. The puzzle made Hakoda feel sick. They both gasped as they rolled the last one over.

Auga, wife of Kesuk, mother of Koko, the proudest woman of the southern water tribe.

Kesuk was going to lose it. First, his child, that he had never even been able to see, then his wife, his pride and joy. They both bound her hastily for no particular reason. Hakoda remembered when Kesuk had first started chasing Auga. They were young of course, but Kesuk was set on marrying that woman. He had done everything in his power to get her to pay attention to him, from flowers to silly little notes and poems. She had refused his advances until her sixteenth birthday, when he approached her with a betrothal necklace. She had accepted his offer immediately, putting the necklace on gracefully before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him square on the lips in front of the entire village.

They laid her down on top of Maru. They began to pile sticks and logs along the burn pit side, preparing for it to be lit at sundown.

Neither of them spoke a word.

 **OoOoOoO**

Sundown came too quickly for Hakoda's liking, and he wrinkled his nose in anger and frustration as the last orange sliver slipped beneath the horizon. Everyone had been informed of the losses, and to whom they belonged too. Rou had disappeared into the tundra for several hours, to privately mourn the loss of his son, before the body burnt and his soul was sent off to the spirit world.

They all now stood before the burn pile. The flames danced high in the air, licking the sky with shining tongues. The small was awful, like someone had left meat on the coals. Though, Hakoda supposed, that was what was happening really.

Kesuk sat in the sand, a little too near the burn pile for Hakoda's comfort, but he didn't dare move him. Kesuk's face was blank and emotionless, but the light made his wet cheeks shine, illuminating each tear as it fell. He turned away.

Hakoda had not cried when Kya died. He had wrapped the body in tight blue cloth, laying it on the burn pile as if she were made of glass. They had lit the fire at sundown, like now, but the second the flames began to blacken the cloth Hakoda had feinted, dropping back onto the snow like a fallen tree. He had not watched his wife go on to the afterlife. He regretted that, at least he could make up for it now.

 **I hope I ripped your hearts out. Just kidding! No I'm not, really man I'm trying to channel feelings.  
-PoisonBones**

 **P.S. Petitioning for fan art, anyone interested?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey Guys! This chapter is mostly going to revolve around Sokka and Katara, a bit of Kanna, not really much Hakoda, but a little. It's just a day of life in the present village, and an excerpt of what the plague feels like from Sokka.  
-PoisonBones**

Sokka groaned loudly as Katara pressed the wet washcloth to his head. Everyone's fever was still far too high, but it appeared that Sokka and Tlate Hiin were the worst. Katara shushed him gently, whispering words of comfort, to no avail. Sokka continued to groan with newfound strength, his eyes rolling dangerously behind their lids. Katara pulled the pelt down a little and loosened the front of his tunic, hoping for him to gain some relief, but the air outside the pelt was just as warm as it was beneath it, and the only response Sokka had was another groan. Katara bit her tongue and pulled the pelt back up in silence, tuning out everything else around her.

A hand on her back made her turn. Ulva stood behind her, a bowl in hand. Katara reached up and took the container from Ulva's fingers, giving her a small smile of appreciation. Ulva did not smile back, but she nodded and walked away. She had been like stone, not a word spoken since Innu's death. Katara bit back the feelings of sympathy and empathetic skill, not wanting to know what the loss of a loved one was like, not again. Instead she turned back to Sokka, who had gone quiet when she stopped touching him. She decided to try and feed him, then go back and feed herself.

Katara tapped Sokka's face, "Hey, Sokka, wake up. It's time to eat."

Sokka cracked his eyes open, regarding her and the bowl for a second before closing his eyes again, ignoring her.

She shook his shoulder, "C'mon Sokka, you haven't eaten since yesterday."

She set the bowl down next to Sokka's head, letting the fumes of the warm broth waft up to his nostrils. Sokka's eyes snapped open. He lurched forward, thrusting his head over the nearby bucket and emptying his stomach of all contents. Katara turned her head and set the bowl down, waiting until he was finished to look back and put a hand to his shoulder.

Sokka shook his head a little, "Nothing will stay down."

Katara shrank back a little, "I'm sorry."

Sokka lay back on his cot. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, silently telling Katara that he wanted rest. She rubbed his shoulder a little. Katara stood swiftly. Picking up the bucket, she took it to the back entrance of the roundhouse. Placing her hand on the bottom and directing her aim, she closed her eyes and thrust the bucket outward, grimacing as the vomit hit the snow with a wet sound. She stepped into the doorway. A small basin had been placed beside the door and filled with melted snow, adorned with a cup. Katara picked up the cup and dipped some water into it. Pouring the cup into bucket, she dropped it back in the basin, swishing the bucket and repeating her actions.

Katara put the bucket back at Sokka's bedside and picked up the bowl. She curled up in front of the fire, holding the warm broth to her chest. She looked down into it, taking into brownish color, her eyes catching every oiled bead in the firelight. Nasak, Nunka's little brother, tipped his own bowl all the way back from his place across from her, draining every last drop from the rounded container. He swallowed and looked, a little disappointed, into the bottom of his now empty bowl, as if wishing he could have more. Katara averted her gaze and turned back to the fire and brought hers to her lips. She wasn't hungry, she realized, not in the slightest. Katara looked back up at Nasak, who was wiping the bottom of the dish with his fingers and licking off the excess that collected.

"Nasak," The boy looked up, and Katara extended her arm out towards him, offering up her bowl of broth, "You can have it."

The little boys brows furrowed together, "But aren't you hungry?"

Katara gave a small smile and shook her head, "No, no I'm not hungry."

Nasak regarded her quizzically, not entirely believing her, but when she gave the bowl a reassuring swish, a smile broke over his little face and he eagerly accepted it.

"Thanks!" He chortled, making quick work of sipping away at the broth. He was so childish, like he should be. Katara almost laughed when a bit of the brownish liquid dribbled down his chin.

She stood again, brushing away anything from the floor that could have collected on her bottom. She sidestepped mats, making her way to the far left of the building, recognizing each body on its mat. Buniq (she had fallen just after they burned Shilo), Poallu, Tlate Hiin, Qilaq, Chu, Kaske. Those were only a few. She could see Tartok leaning up on his elbows, attempting to comfort his and Saghani's son, Kaito.

Katara settled herself into a sleeping mat against the wall. She could Sokka's mat clearly, if anything were to happen she would be one of the first to know.

She was asleep in seconds.

 **OoOoOoO**

It was like death.

If death felt like you had just been trampled by a fully grown male polar bear dog.

Sokka stared at the ceiling. Everything blurred around the edges, making it nearly impossible for him to tell where he was. Everything was hazy in his mind; it was as if he was thinking through a cloud.

The physical pain was worse.

He ached from head to toe. A stiff soreness had settled into his muscles, making it hard to move. It was as if a violent heartbeat had been released in each part of him. One in his gut, one in his groin, one in each thigh and calf and forearm and bicep, and one in each and every one of his fingers and toes. In his back, specifically centered along his spine, the base of his neck, and his entire head, was a white hot burning sensation. His stomach was doing gymnastics, making bile rise to the back of his throat, which he swallowed back down, not in the mood for retching into a bucket.

Sokka experimentally lifted the fingers on his left hand one at a time under the pelt. Over the days of having the plague, Sokka had sank into a sick form of accustomed comfort with feeling like he was being torn apart, and he did not flinch as pain surged up his arm. He dropped them back onto the ground. A whimper sounded beside him.

Sakari, Innu's nine year old sister, cried in pain silently, tears making tracks on her dirt stained face. She was laying on her back as well, her dark hair spread out beneath her shoulders, her brown eyes glistening.

Sokka bit his tongue and reached out towards her. His fingers were a good foot and a half from her shoulder.

"Hey," He called weakly. She turned her head to look at him, "It's gonna be okay."

Sakari nodded slightly. She closed her eyes and, grimacing in pain, reached out and took his hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze before pulling her hand back to the mat as perspiration beaded on her forehead from the exertion. Sokka withdrew his hand, but offered her a pained smile. Sakari managed a little grin back before closing her eyes.

Sokka looked back up at the ceiling.

 **OoOoOoO**

Kanna dipped the brush into the ink and began to write her message down onto the paper. It was a ludicrous proposition, but they needed it.

The message was simple.

 _My name is Kanna; I am a, elderly woman of the Southern Water Tribe. We are in need of help, specifically medicine and healers. A plague has struck us, we have lost six already. Please, send help._

Kanna rolled the message tightly and slipped it inside a cover. With a strip of animal hide, she bound it to the leg of an arctic seagull. The bird leaned into her touch, and she stroked its soft feathers. Kanna lifted the creature off of the desk and exited the building with it tucked under her arm.

She made for the shore. Holding the bird out in front of her, she made to set it into the air, but something stopped her.

"Mother?" Hakoda's voice carried lightly on the icy air, and the elderly woman turned to face her son.

Kanna pulled the bird back to her chest, and it gave a gentle squawk, "What brings you out here, boy?"

The childhood nickname rolled off of Kanna's tongue easily, it was meant to be reassuring of sorts, but Hakoda took no comfort.

"Clearing my head. Mother what are you doing?"Hakoda asked, brows furrowed together in question.

"Sending out an SOS." She replied bluntly, "We are in need of assistance if any of us are to survive."

Hakoda's face went from confusion to calm. Stepping forward, he took the bird from his mother's arms and threw it out into the air.

They both watched the bird go in silence, staring out across the horizon as the creature made its way across the grey sky, until it was nothing but a speck.

Kanna clapped her hands together, the noise toned down by her mittens, "Alright, shows over. All we can do now is wait."

She turned to leave, but a firm hand on her shoulder made her turn back. Hakoda pulled his mother into a tight embrace. Kanna was taken aback slightly, but she quickly regained her posture and returned the hug, but not without question.

"What is the meaning of this, boy?" She asked, her voice muffled by the parka in which her face was pressed into.

"Nothing, I just…." Hakoda trailed off, tightening his grip around his mother. Tears were beginning to sting his eyes, and he wanted so badly to let them out.

"I just love you mom."

Kanna tightened her grip as well, "I know, boy, I know."

Hakoda let the tears fall, and they both stood there, clinging to each other in a quiet embrace. After a couple minutes Kanna stepped back and held her son at arm's length, using her mitten to wipe away the tears off of his cheek. The rough material scratched Hakoda's cheek, but he took comfort in it. She used to do this when he was young, after his father had given him a lashing. It was a good memory.

Kanna pulled his arm, and they walked together towards the ships. She dropped him off at the shore and went towards the village. Kanna was tired of her emotions. They hurt, and she hated them. But hate was an emotion wasn't it? She set her face to stone and entered the roundhouse, her emotions buried deep. Hakoda was not as good as hiding his emotions.

He curled up on the cot in his cabin and cried himself to sleep.

 **OoOoOoO**

Sokka's eyes fluttered open. He had slept for a good few hours, having drifted off to the sound of Sakari's weak whimpers, rousing slightly when they had stopped.

They had stopped.

Sokka's eyes widened and he jerked his head to the side, instantly regretting it. Black spots did little jigs in front of his eyes, and everything from his shoulders up felt as though they were being stabbed with tiny needles. When the pain subsided and his vision cleared, Sokka could see Sakari lying on her mat.

She was lying on her back, her hair still spread out around her. Her skin was pale and ashen, and her eyes were wide open. She was staring at the ceiling.

Sokka pulled himself up. Bracing his body on his hands and knees, he made the slow painful journey towards her mat. His head burned, and his body screamed for him to stop and sink back down onto his pelt in submission, but Sokka bit his lip. It was all he could do to keep from crying out in pain, so he focused on his movements.

 _One hand, one leg, one hand, one leg. Lift, scoot. One hand, one leg, one hand, one leg._

He repeated the motions for what felt like ages, until he sat beside Sakari's mat, trying desperately to suck in air that wouldn't come. He laid a hand on the little girl's chest. She was cold, her skin felt like rubber through the thin fabric of her dress. Her eyes stared wide and unblinking up at the ceiling. Sokka brushed his hand down over her eyelids, closing them. He brought his hand back to his lap; accidently spearing himself on a protruding piece of dried pelt, leaving a three inch long gash on the side of his left hand, piercing his skin and making him bleed.

The pain of being injured felt like no other, and the plague only made it worse. It raced through his body at a sickening speed, and suddenly he was being physically abused. It felt as the he was being attacked with clubs, it felt as though his bones were breaking. Pound, pound, pound, down came the clubs. White hot pain surged through him; needles were being stabbed into his skin, the clubs being swung.

Sokka cried out, good and loud for all to hear. He could faintly hear people shouting; feel their hands pulling him up and away from Sakari's mat. Someone was saying his name. He was sure that it was Katara, but he couldn't see.

He was unconscious before he was back on his mat.


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter was inspired by a question asked by Darthlane. I realize now that I didn't purely understand your question, so I'll answer now. No, I do not plan to expand this story any further past the plague. Thank you for the idea though** **  
-PoisonBones**

She swung her feet around the wooden posts that kept the fruit stand grounded, the metal around her ankles clanging together, sending their jingly noise down the street as she swung her basket back and forth.

She smiled and waved at everyone she saw, a broad smile across her face. She was an odd one. Everyone had whispered about her behind her back when she had first arrived four years prior, but now her oddness was normal, and she moved freely through the crowded streets without dirty looks being thrown.

Her skin was pale, like most, dotted with freckles along her neck and cheekbones, reddening slightly in the early morning sun. Her dress was brown, and pleasantly loose, exposing her shoulders but not hiding the round of her breasts or dips of her waist. It had a long skirt that drug the ground on a normal day, but on this particular morning in had been pinned halfway up, showing off her long slender legs. Her ankles were covered with an array of bangles, her were feet bare, the soles turning dark from the soil. Her hair was a bright red (children often told her that it reminded them of the candies their parents gave during festival), and it was done up in dreadlocks, held back from her face by a golden cuff. A multicolored headband held her bangs from her face, giving her a witchy look.

She laughed at a small child as it bumped into her knee roughly. The child, a small boy of about one, sat back on his bottom. Blood dripped from his newly split lip, and tears welled up in his eyes as he let out a little whimper, his face scrunching, preparing to wail. Crouching, the woman gathered up her skirts and wiped the blood away, not caring that half the square could see her unders. The child quieted as the woman with red hair dried his tears and touched his lip. She ran her thumb over the red swollen cut, and when she moved her hand, the cut was nothing more than a bit of irritated skin. The child sobered up immediately, thrusting a chubby fist in his mouth and giggling at her. She smiled. Pulling the child to his little feet, she returned him to his parents, who were standing on the corner looking frantic.

She continued on her path, slowing slightly as a man with a cane and a bad limp passed in front of her jerkily. She side stepped him, brushing her hand along his hip before going on, not bothering to look back. The man stopped abruptly, looking a bit shocked. With a moment's hesitation, he lifted his cane from the ground and went on his merry way, a smile on his face, no limp in his leg.

She came up to the steps of a cobbled house. The stones were old and dirty, falling loose in the mortar. The whole thing seemed to sag, the only thing that could be seen holding it up were the vines the twisted and tangled together on the walls. She leapt up the steps and stepped in the door.

Inside the house, now that was a sight.

Everything was made of cherry wood. The walls, the ceiling, the counters, the table, the chairs. The table was made, a vase of ditch lilies set in the center. The counter was clean; the utensils were all in their respective places, an open window to the left of the sink. The ceiling had two hanging pot plants one in the top right corner one in the bottom left. Philodendrons seeped from the soil and lined the kitchen, pinned up to keep out of the way. In the middle there was a metal rack of which an array of different sized copper pots and pans hung.

She set her basket down on the table and moved to the sink. A cooing sound stopped her. A white bird sat on the open windowsill, looking at her curiously with its head tipped to the side. She bent her knees and sunk a little low, approaching the bird cautiously. When she came to be two feet away, she raised her hand and reached for it. The bird hopped off the sill and right into her hands. She stood up, a little startled, but she relaxed when the bird simply nestled itself against her breast.

She set the bird down and reached into the cabinet above her. Removing a small container of oats, she sprinkled some on the counter, stroking the bird as it pecked at the small grains. She looked the bird over as it was distracted. It was missing a small bit of feathers from the top of its left wing, the skin raw and bleeding, but other than that it was fine. She ran her hands gently along its legs, searching for discomfort. Her fingers brushed over something small and rough. She crouched, lowering herself to the counter level. It was a small pouch, about the size of her pinky finger, bound to the bird's leg with a thin strip of material. She tugged it off and opened it, revealing a small piece of parchment. Opening it up, she read.

She dropped her hands to her sides. She could sense no lie. The southern water tribe was in trouble. She bent down and began to stroke the bird again.

"Good thing you found me, huh?" She stood again, picking up the bird and putting it in the broom closet, before stepping into the hallway, following it to the back door. The back was a barn, a pen built up next to it for the dogs to stay. All three animals were asleep, snouts the wall, and on top of them, was a woman.

Her hair was black and scraggly, her skin pale. Her dress was as dark as her hair, and hung loosely on her bony body. She was barefoot as well, her feet dirty. The red headed woman reached out and pushed the dog nearest to her. The dog leapt up and ran out, knocking the black haired woman onto the ground with and 'umph'. She sat up hissing like a snake, brushing her hair out of her face and looking up.

Seeing the other woman, she said, "Bama? What in the spirits name was that for?!"

"Oh don't whine, Uwa," The redheaded woman, Bama, said, "It's time for breakfast anyway. And I have some news."

Uwa stood, muttering about 'stupid big sisters' as she dusted herself off. She went to wait in the kitchen, while Bama climbed the staircase. In the small bedroom at the top there was a single large bed, a dresser, and a rocking chair. Bama stepped into the room.

In the rocking chair, there sat an old woman, who was knitting. She barely glanced up at the girl before returning to work with a sneer.

Bama sighed, "Good morning grandma Kina."

The old woman swatted a hand in her direction, "Eh, don't give me none of that good morning bull. This day ain't no better than the last."

Bama rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the lump on the bed. She laid a hand to it and shook.

"Momma, it's time for breakfast."

The covers were yanked down immediately, revealing another woman. She was not as old as Kina, but she was not young. Her hair was red, but streaked with silver. Her pale face was freckled, reddened slightly by yesterday's sun. She was an older version of Bama.

"Breakfast, you say? And just what might _breakfast_ be?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

Bama smiled, "Muesli, just as you like it."

She jumped out of bed and onto her feet with a smile, her nightgown swishing down to the floor. Kina made a disgusted noise. She looked at her, the smile slipping off of her face.

"I see you're still alive." She drawled.

"In the flesh." Kina replied smarmily.

Bama sighed as they continued to bicker. Some things never changed.

"Momma?" Came a small voice from the doorway. Bama turned to find her daughter, seven year old Temi, standing in the doorway. Her hair was not as red as Bama's, but more auburn and it hung in loose curls about her face. Her brown skirt was hanging too low, showing her underwear, and her top was not closed, a clear indication that she had dressed herself. Bama chuckled.

"Morning princess." Temi grinned back.

"Can grandma Kali tie my shirt?" Bama raised her eyebrows at Kali, who had looked up from her bantering with Kina.

Kali smiled, "Sure thing princess. C'mere."

Kali bent down as Temi reached her, tying up the little girls clothing in a flash. She pulled the child up onto her hip and gave Bama a smile, before going downstairs.

Bama watched her go. Kina huffed, Bama frowned.

She shook her head, resting her hands on the elder woman's shoulders, "C'mon grandma, let's get you downstairs."

Bama helped the older woman out of her seat and down to the kitchen. With everyone gathered in the kitchen, Bama pulled a bowl of premade muesli out of the cooler, along with a basket of sweet buns and a pot of iced green tea. She served everyone and they all sat around the table, eating together. Bama spared a glance at Uwa, who was fumbling with her spoon, her hair in her face. Bama pushed her own bowl away and reached for her little sister. She showed Uwa the way to hold it, letting her test it. Uwa gave her a smile of thanks, and Bama brushed a strand of her out of her sister's face, revealing a long scar on Uwa's forehead.

"You said you had news." Uwa said, "What is it."

"Oh." Everyone looked up as Bama retrieved the note from her pocket. She laid it on the table and went over to the broom closet, opening it and removing the bird, which had nestled itself in between the corner and the mop.

"Note came with this little thing this morning." She set the bird down, and Uwa snatched it up, inspecting the skin on the bird's wing. She went to the sink and splashed water on the cut, cleaning the blood away. She took a pinch of green herb from the basket Bama had brought from the market and pressed it onto the injury.

Kali picked up the note from the table and read aloud.

" _My name is Kanna; I am a, elderly woman of the Southern Water Tribe. We are in need of help, specifically medicine and healers. A plague has struck us, we have lost six already. Please, send help."_

Kina brows furrowed together, and Temi stopped eating her breakfast, not because she understood what was going on, but because that's what everybody else had done.

"We can't trust it." Kina said.

Kali looked up a t Bama, who was standing to the side with her hands on her hips, "Do you sense lies?"

Bama shook her head, "Not even the slightest. This Kanna woman, whoever she may be, is completely sincere."

"I still don't trust it."

Kali sent Kina a stern look, "If Bama says that they are in need then I believe her." She turned back to Bama, "What do you intend to do?"

"Help." Bama said, "I intend to go there and help."

"How?" Uwa asked. The bird cooed gently as she stopped petting it. She looked at Bama with fearful eyes, "How do you expect to make it across the ocean? Even if you did find passage, no one's willing to go all the way to the South Pole."

"I can sail. Papa taught me."

"Where's momma goin'?" Temi asked, looking confused.

"Hush child," Kali said, "I trust you to make it to the South Pole safely, but you can't do it alone."

"That's why I need your help." Bama said.

Kina gave Bama a glare, " _No,_ I ain't sticking two toes on a boat."

Bama threw her hands in the air, "Fine! You won't be of use anyways. It's the rest of you I'd need, including Temi."

Silence enveloped the family. Kali looked around the table. Temi blinked around at everyone in bewilderment, and Uwa continued to stroke the bird. Bama continued standing, hands still on her hips.

Kali was the first to raise her hand, "I'm going."

Bama nodded. Uwa was next, "Me too."

Temi raised her hand as high as it would go, "I'm comin' momma."

Bama smiled and look at the last person, "Grandma?"

Kina's eyes widened and she looked back and forth between them all. She shook her head fiercely.

"No! I ain't goin!" She stood up as fast as her old body would let her and went up stairs. Kali made to follow her, but Bama held up a hand.

"Not now, momma." She stood up a little straighter, "We got work to do."

Uwa looked to Temi, to Kali, to Bama.

"Can I have the bird?"

 **And there you have it, the next chapter of this amazingness. You will learn in later chapters why Uwa is the way she is, and her actions will have more depth. Now you all probably just think she's a weirdo.  
-PoisonBones**


	7. Chapter 7

It was as expected, the catching had lasted several days, but they needed to go hunting again. Bato and Hakoda crouched low behind the snow drift, the pack of Arctic elk slowly drawing closer.

Hakoda drew back the string on the bow, aiming for a doe. The arrow slipped through his fingers, sinking into the animal's skull. The elk dropped to the ground while the others took off into the tundra.

They jumped over the drift and approached the doe as Hakoda pulled the bow onto his back. Bato began to dress the animal while Hakoda pulled the arrow out of its head with an equally sick noise. He poked it in and out of the snow, cleaning off the blood and brain like fluids before sticking it back into his quiver. Hakoda kicked some off the white substance over the red spots and looked out over the horizon. They had a nice view of the sea where they were, and the dark blue seemed to stretch on for miles. Kanna had told them to keep eyes on the sea, in case someone was too reply to their call for help.

Bato grabbed the doe's two back legs while Hakoda grabbed the front. They began the trek back home. It was rather warm today, or maybe that was just Hakoda looking for something good in this hell they were living. It had been four days since they had sent the bird out, long enough for a snow seagull to have reached land. He knew it was ridiculous for him to hold out so much hope on such a little thing, but he looked to the horizon as often as possible, praying that maybe, just maybe, he'd see a ship.

He never did.

They took the elk to the smokehouse and let the rest of the men butcher it. Bato went back the ship for one reason or another (probably to sleep, in hopes this was all just a bad dream), while Hakoda went to the roundhouse to check up on Sokka and Katara.

Katara was curled up on her sleeping mat. Sokka appeared to sleeping as well, but his eyes darted tirelessly behind their lids. Perspiration dripped down his face, shining in the firelight. Hakoda wiped it away with a cloth. Sokka relaxed into his father's touch, but grimaced, whimpering slightly as Hakoda's fingers brushed against his bare forehead. He retracted them immediately, in dumb fear that he had hurt him. Sokka's features settled, his body relaxed completely, and his eyes stopped moving.

Hakoda blinked and leaned a little closer, squinting. He could hear Sokka's ragged breaths, and see his chest rise and fall. He sat back and dropped his hand into his lap and yawned.

 _I need some sleep,_ He thought.

He rested his cheek in his hand and closed his eyes. He had started to doze when a relatively loud voice hollered from the other end of the roundhouse.

"Hey!" Bato called to anyone who would listen. Hakoda snapped his head up and glared in his friend's direction.

"There's a ship! Out on shore!" That got his attention. Hakoda shot up out of his cross legged position on the floor. He stumbled incoherently as he stood, but he managed to make out the door to look out at along the bank.

A boat sat along the white edge. It was made of brown wood, with tall staffs and a small set. It was a merchant's boat, made to hold five hundred pounds of cargo and a small crew.

A squawk resounded through the chilled air, and the white snow seagull that Kanna had sent forth with an SOS flew back into her arms. Kanna stepped back, startled, momentarily stunned before regaining her composure and calling out.

"Who goes there?" Her voice, scratchy with age, carried well over the breeze, and a head poked over the edge of the boat. It was a woman, mid twenties. Her hair was black, and hung in her face. She wore an orange cloak. It was hard to make her out from his position on the bank, but Hakoda swore he saw a scar on her face. She perked up when she saw them all.

She turned around and called out for someone, and two more faces appeared. An older, red headed woman in a green cloak, with a child on her hip.

"Are you Kanna of the Southern Water Tribes?" The older woman called down.

"Who's asking?" Kanna called back up. The woman set the child down and did the unthinkable.

She jumped over the edge of the ship.

Right down into the snow drifts.

Hakoda started forward as soon as he saw her feet leave the edge, but stopped when she caught herself on the ground, brushing herself off and standing unharmed. She approached them swiftly. Hakoda could not see her steps; it was if she was floating. She came to a stop in front of Kanna and extended a hand.

"My name is Kali. My family and I received a distress call. We came as soon as we could." She said.

Kanna reached forward and accepted her hand in a firm grip, "My name is Kanna. Yes, we sent the call. We are in need of assistance."

"Against plague yes," Kali nodded. She looked around, "And who just who are these fine young men?"

"This is my son Hakoda," His gestured at him. He nodded back at her, and she smiled, her eyes moving onto Bato, "This is Bato, and the young one is Nunka."

"A pleasure to meet you all." She greeted them. She looked back to Kanna, "You must want to meet the rest of us. Shall I call them down?"

"Please do."

Kali turned back towards the ship, "Hey! You can all come down now, it's safe!"

A squeal made its way down to them as the black haired woman threw herself rather unceremoniously over the edge, landing headfirst in a snowdrift, her feet sticking high in the air. The child followed her actions, but she caught herself on the ground, much like Kali, and stood easily. The black haired woman pulled herself out of the snow and tumbled down the drifts side, slinging up snow and disappearing into the cloud she created. She appeared again after a moment, running towards them with the child in a tow. She stopped beside Kali. Kali smiled and began to brush snow out of her and the child's hair.

"This is Uwa, my youngest daughter, and my granddaughter, Temi." They both waved enthusiastically. Now that she was closer, Hakoda could see clearly, and there was in fact a long scar across her forehead. The little girl's hair was auburn, and her yellow cloak was in deep contrast to her pale skin.

Hakoda looked back past them. There were two more figures approaching them. Another red haired woman, younger than Kali but older than Uwa, and the oldest of them. She was a frail looking elderly woman, but she scowled irritably at everything.

"Hello." The red haired woman said. Hakoda blinked at her dumbly. She was a younger, plumper version of Kali, her copper cloak tucked tight around her middle.

"This is my eldest daughter, and Temi's mother, Bama. And this is my mother in law, Kina." Kali said. Kina grunted, scrunching her shoulders in her black cloak and huffing.

"So," Kanna said, studying them all, "Which of you is the healer?"

"I am." Bama said. Her voice was full and firm, yet surprisingly light, "I've come to assist you. I've brought all my supplies; all I need is a patient."

"No time to waste then, come on." Kanna turned, and the five began to follow her. Hakoda caught her arm and pulled her back.

"What's wrong, boy?" Kanna asked, looking at him.

"Are you sure we can trust them. We don't even know where they came from." Hakoda hissed.

"Do we have a choice in waiting for them to prove themselves?" Kanna asked, "We have nothing, Hakoda. I'm willing to take a risk."

Kanna pulled away from her sons grasp and led the family towards the roundhouse. The little girl stood back a ways, sifting her fingers through the snow on the ground.

"Bama looked back and held out a hand, "Temi, come."

"What is it momma?" She asked, holding up a handful.

"It's snow, or at least I think it is." Bama reached back and lifted her up onto her hip, "Never seen it before, myself. But we will have time to play later; right now we have work to do."

She walked on her way towards the roundhouse, where everyone else had already entered. Hakoda frowned. Never seen snow? It snowed everywhere in winter, even the nomadic areas had snow. The only place it never snowed was-

The Fire Nation.

Hakoda's heart skipped a beat, and not in the good way. There was no way- could they be- could the bird have traveled that far? Never mind that, what if they are Fire Nation? They could hurt somebody!

Hakoda swallowed. He couldn't jump to conclusions, he would have to be sure and provide evidence if he was to be taken seriously.

He would need to investigate their quarters. He turned on his heel and started for their ship, but he was stopped. His knees went weak, his arms shaky, and spots danced in front of his eyes. The world seemed to swim around him and his head felt too heavy for his shoulders. He fell to his knees and tried to swallow, finding that he couldn't. He dropped completely and groaned, holding his head, which had begun to throb uncontrollably

"Hakoda? Hakoda!" Someone grabbed Hakoda by the shoulders and hauled him forth. Everything was still blurry, but he could make out a face, a man's face.

"Bato?" He managed. His vision began to clear, and sure enough, Bato blinked down on him from the extra inches of height with worry and concern.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He asked quickly. He put his hands on Hakoda's shoulders, as Hakoda tried to rub the fuzziness from his brain through his face.

"…..Yeah," Hakoda said slowly, "I'm fine. I just moved too fast, got a little dizzy."

Bato removed his hands from his friend's shoulders and stood up straight, "Moved too fast? You've never 'moved too fast' before."

Hakoda grit his teeth, his brain fully coming back into contact, "I said I'm _fine._ Just leave me be."

Bato scowled, "I think you should lie down."

Hakoda opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it, "Alright, I will."

He could always investigate later, and he _was_ rather tired. He slowly began to walk back to the roundhouse, taking slow even breaths and trying to focus. Bato stayed behind him, walking at his pace in case he was to collapse again.

Hakoda pushed past the thicket door and pulled off his parka. He walked around the varying mats and picked one along the right wall. He felt Bato's eyes burn holes into his back as he moved. He kicked off his boots and sank down into the mat. Hakoda took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing every muscle in his body. Bato moved on to perform another task.

He looked around. Bama, the healer, was at the back of the room with Saghani. She had procured a basket from somewhere, and it appeared she was teaching Saghani how to make tea. The mother and mother in law, Kali and Kina, were spooning broth into bowls and passing them out to families. He was sure that his mother had introduced them. The little girl, he forgot her name, Terry? Never mind, she was sitting beside Nasak by the fire. She held one of Nilak's old dolls in her lap, talking to him as lowly as a child of about seven could. Nasak looked as though he had been crying. The other woman, Uwa he thought, was nowhere to be seen. He wondered where she could be.

He leaned his head back against the folded pelt. He was over thinking this. He _had_ to be over thinking this. They couldn't be Fire Nation, there was no way and arctic snow seagull would have gotten that far in just a few days time.

But a little look couldn't hurt.

He closed his eyes. They weren't going anywhere, a nap couldn't hurt, and Bato would cripple him if he even thought about leaving.

He drifted into a dreamless sleep.

 **OoOoOoO**

It was impeccably clean, he noticed.

He had searched nearly every room on their ship high and low and had found nothing suspicious. Unless you call a seven year olds drawing of a cobbled house suspicious.

He was now in the room of which he assumed belonged to Bama, due to the mass amount of medical books he found in the trunk at the bottom of the sleeping mat. He was currently searching the desk (which was nailed to the floor to keep it from crushing the current sleeper on the waves that may toss it) for any clues that may hint at their ethnicity. The furnishings, few as there were, did no help. They were mostly purple or gray, which did nothing but bugger him. He pushed through drawers pulling out the assorted items. It appeared she not only used the desk for literary things but as a makeshift dresser as well, and Hakoda couldn't help but feel a bit faint when he pulled out a brassiere.

Well, _more_ faint, he already felt as though he was about to fall over, even after he rested. They had arrived midmorning, Hakoda had slept for a good six hours (guess he needed it) so it was early evening now. The sun filtered through the single window in the room, illuminating everything with a warm glow.

Hakoda dug deeper into the desk, ignoring the foggy feeling just behind his forehead. Slips were brown, the stockings grey. He reached the bottom of the drawer and grinned mildly. _Now we're getting somewhere,_ He thought, sticking his hands into the pile. Athame, deadly. Shuriken, deadly. Scalpel, deadly. Wait was that- yes.

Hakoda pulled out a long strip of cloth, turning it over in his hands. It was red, Fire nation red, and in the middle was a black Fire Nation Military insignia. There was a name embroidered at the top. Seht. Hakoda frowned. It wasn't your typical Fire nation name, that was for sure, but it was on a military hanker chief, so he didn't second guess it.

They were Fire Nation, and they needed to be stopped.

And he would be the one to expose them.


	8. Chapter 8

Hakoda put everything back into the drawer except the hanker chief, which he put into his pocket. He stood slowly, breathing deeply, and left the ship. The jump down was a lot easier than the climb up, but it was still difficult. He hit the ground with an 'umph!'. He started to walk towards the roundhouse, which was visible in the distance.

Hakoda stumbled through the snow. He needed to get this back to the rest of them. They were Fire Nation, they couldn't be trusted.

He leaned up against the post where the dogs were tied up for moment, before continuing on. He kept his hand smooth along the side off the smokehouse for support. His vision was blurred, and his head and stomach hurt. Spirits, why did he ache so much? He tripped over his foot and nearly fell on his face. His knees went shaky, and his stomach lurched. He bent over, head resting on the side of the smokehouse, and vomited. A surge of white hot pain ripped through his abdomen, and it felt as though he was expelling the stomach lining itself.

When he was finished, he leaned back coughing, but his knees gave out and he fell on his backside. He scooted himself back to rest against the building. He turned some snow over his mess and closed his eyes, just breathing long, slow breaths.

Hakoda didn't know how long he sat there, letting the cool air soothe him, trying to swallow the sour taste in his mouth, but the sound of boots crunching over snow made him open his eyes and look over. The little girl, Temi he thought her name was, was approaching him, a cup of steaming liquid in hand. He didn't flinch away from her, but regarded her cautiously. She was only a child; there wasn't much she could do to harm him. She stopped a step away from him and held out the cup.

"I saw you get sick. Momma said this'll make your tummy feel better." She said, a smile on her mouth.

He almost rolled his eyes at the childish word, but managed not too. He slowly reached out and took the cup from her fingers, bringing it down to hold it in his lap, "Thank you. You're too kind."

He expected her to lose interest and walk away, the way most children would, but instead she flopped down into the snow beside him and wiggled her little feet down beneath the first layer. She peered at the cup in his lap and then up at him expectantly. He ground his teeth a little and raised to his lips, humoring her and taking a small sip. He hadn't expected it to work. The minute the warm liquid rolled down his throat, his stomach stopped churning, the nauseous feeling he had carried around all day vanished, hell he was even _hungry,_ to some degree.

Something poked him in the side. He looked down to see Temi holding the red hanker chief in her little fingers. He tensed as she ran her hands over the fabric, specifically the name on the corner.

She was quiet for a moment, before looking up at him, "You went through momma's things."

"…Safety precaution." He said. It couldn't be that hard to fool a child could it? If he could get her to believe it was normal thing then maybe she wouldn't tell anyone quite yet.

"No it's not." She said quietly. Had her mother notified her of the war and rivalries? No, she wouldn't- would she? "Momma told me you would be wondering where we were from."

She did.

Hakoda cleared his throat, "Yes, I _was_ wondering, but now I know and-!"

"She said none of you like us 'cause we're Fire Nation."

Darn. He had to admit, she was good. Bama had been smart enough to debrief even the idlest of minds on her ship.

Temi looked up at him. He expected a child of her age in her position to be in tears, but instead her eyes were filled with curiosity.

"Why do you hate the Fire Nation?"

Hakoda's face darkened, "They're evil. They maim and kill in war without thought. They take away more and more lives every day, _important_ lives. Men, children, _mothers_. They-!"

"And you don't?"

Hakoda closed his mouth with a snap, glowering down at her, "What do you mean?"

"And you don't do any of those things? Momma told me, she said that Kanna said that you were a fighter, which means you were in the war, right?"

He ground his teeth, where was she going with this? "Yes."

"Which means you killed people?"

" _Yes."_

"Well then how do you know that any of the men and women you killed weren't parents? Or daughters or sons or brothers or sisters? Maybe there's a little boy and girl out there that has to grow up without a Momma or Poppa because of you. Or a Poppa who has to raise the kid alone because the Momma got killed?"

Temi looked down into her lap sadly, fingering the hanker chief. In the smallest voice he had ever heard, she finished, "Or a Momma who has to raise a baby without a Poppa, 'cause Poppa got his head smashed in."

The broken sound in her voice made Hakoda's heart pinch. He had never looked at it that way. He had never seen the Fire Nation as anything more than evil hellions who were the cause of all misery. He had never thought that there might be a Fire Nation man sitting on a ship or in a concentration camp somewhere, looking at a picture of a wife and child.

He never thought that they could be even slightly the same.

"We're not that different," Temi said quietly, "They fight for the same things you do. To protect what they love."

She was fighting tears now, "This was my Poppa's."

She fingered the hanker chief, "They gave it to him, put his name on it when he got hurt and sent home from the war."

She sniffed, and Hakoda tried to swallow the lump that had formed at the back of his throat.

"We got attacked. Poppa sent Momma and grandma and aunt Uwa out into the woods to great grandma Kina's, while he stayed and fought with the rest of them. Daddy died, aunt Uwa got hurt. They killed him in the square in front of everybody."

Hakoda's brow furrowed, "Who?"

"The north water tribe men."

Hakoda thought he might sick again, and turned his head away from the weeping child. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like. He couldn't imagine being killed in front of his wife and children. He also had trouble imagining that his sister tribe would do something so horrible, but he knew what him and his men had been like in the war, and they hadn't heard from the north for a very long time.

Temi began to hiccup, and he turned and instinctively wrapped an arm around her, chewing his bottom lip as she relaxed into him.

She cried for only a minute or two, before she sat up and rubbed her eyes. They sat in silence for moment. Hakoda stood and picked up the empty teacup, which had been tossed to the side, and held out a hand to the child. Temi looked at his hand, then up at him with her wide eyes. She accepted it with a happy little smile and pulled herself up, but she held onto it, swinging her and his arms back and forth as he walked her inside.

Kanna looked up from talking to Kali when they walked in. Temi ran to her grandmother and began to tell her something excitedly while Kanna regarded him in silence, searching for signs of discomfort. Bato had most likely told her about what had happened that morning. He ignored his mother's examination and peered past her. Bama was kneeling beside Sokka's pelt, a smoking herb in hand, a palm to his forehead, whispering words to him. He moved forward, intending to go to her and speak to her privately, but he didn't get that far.

"Boy." Hakoda turned to face his face mother, who had one hand on Nasak's head, the other on Temi's.

"Mother," He said, eyeing her, "Do you need something?"

"I don't, they do." She nodded down at the two children who looked slightly confused at the situation, "I want you to take these children and have them bathe. They're both filthy."

"Everyone's filthy." He said quickly.

"We are dealing with a plague, the last thing we need is these children to get sick of something else." She pushed them both in his direction, they stumbled and he held out hands to steady them, "Now take them to bathe. There's a tub in the smokehouse."

 **OoOoOoO**

….And that is how Hakoda got stuck with two children a tub of water and a bar of soap.

Temi had needed to go to her ship and pull a clean set of clothes, whereas Nasak just had to ask his mom to get some from the laundry pile. The water tribe didn't pick and choose clothing as theirs. It was all washed together and they just picked and chose what fit. A simple system, effective.

Hakoda had never bathed a child before.

Granted, he had Katara and Sokka, but Kya had usually been the one to wash them up while he worked, and he had no idea what he was doing. He vaguely remembered his own mother bathing him as a child, but the memory was so dim, probably from infancy, that he couldn't be sure.

He decided to be plain and start with Temi, instructing the girl to wash her arms and legs while he washed her hair, as Nasak played with a small boat that had been fashioned from the bone of an arctic hippo. The boy turned and twisted the boat, making whistling noises. He was perfectly comfortable in his nakedness, despite being not a foot away from a girl as nude as he. Hakoda silently wondered what it was that seemed to make kids so comfortable in this form. Temi wasn't bothered either. She fired little water missiles towards Nasak's boat, having finished washing her limbs, as Hakoda worked a soapy lather into her hair.

He ran his fingers through a knot in her hair. He would have her brush it when she was clean.

"Tip your head back." He said. She followed instruction, and he began to wash the soap out by pouring clean water through. The bubbles and dirty water flowed out from the tips and dripped into the bathwater. He rinsed it all out and stood up. Lifting her out of the tub, he wrapped a pelt around her and told her to dry herself off and get dressed while he washed up Nasak, who decided to be difficult.

He twisted out of Hakoda's reach and splashed water at him, giggling as he failed to grab him. It wasn't until Hakoda fisted a hand in his dark hair and threatened to throw him to the wolves that he began to cooperate, albeit a bit reluctantly.

Twenty minutes later he had two clean children a puddle of water two inches deep and a soaking wet parka. He dropped a worn pelt over the puddle and took both children by the hands, marching them to the entrance of the roundhouse.

"I have to go change,"- He glared at Nasak, who grinned in response. - "You two head inside, I'll be back."

He dropped them off and went in the way of the ships. The throbbing in the back of his head began to announce itself vibrantly, sent waves of pain through his skull and down his back. He should probably have Saghani or even Bama look over him, but any time they spent taking care of him could be spent with one of the infected, and he wasn't going to jeopardize one of their lives just because he was feeling a little sick.

He walked up the gangplank, breaking off chunks of ice that accumulated over the days in dock with the toe of his boot.

His cabin was exactly same as he had left it several days before. Kanna had given up on trying to make the men sleep on the ships and had just let them sleep in the roundhouse; the only thing the men used the boat for anymore was to keep their clothes while all the tents and house were disabled. He threw open the wardrobe and pulled out a dry parka and tunic, surprised at how dirty he felt. He hadn't bathed in nearly two weeks.

"Wow, it's a lot smaller in here than I thought it would be." A voice said from behind him. Hakoda turned to find Nasak and Temi standing t the end of the hall. Nasak gripped Temi's hand tightly in his own, the other wresting on the doorway as he peered in to one of the lower cabins, while Temi admired the maps on the wall. It reminded him of what he and Kya used to do before he became a fighter. They used to sneak on these very ships and snoop around, dig through drawers, make out in the chief cabin.

Despite the throbbing in the back of his head, he chuckled. It was absolutely comical.

"What are you two doing?" He called. Their heads snapped up. Nasak's expression read of a guilty criminal, Temi's read of a child who had just been given candy.

"We wanted to see the ship." She answered happily. Nasak gulped loudly.

Nunuq had probably lectured all three of his children (Nunka, Nasak, and Nilak) about going on the ships without permission. Hakoda chuckled again, he wouldn't punish him. He was going to be a soldier one day after all.

If the plague didn't take him.

That sour note made Hakoda grimace. His pessimistic self conscious made itself known when it was least needed.

He cleared his throat, "Well, you've seen it. You're not supposed to be in here."

"You sail around the world in this?" Temi asked, peering into the cabin opposite of the one she had just seen.

"Yes." He answered. The thick air of the ship wasn't helping him. His head began to pound harder, his vision blurred around the edges, and knees gave a threatening shiver. Temi began to look around, and Nasak followed her. They moved past him down the hall and into the storage room.

He took the opportunity away from prying eyes to lean against the wall and close his eyes. It was as though his head was full of a heavy mass. Perhaps his brain had grown too big for his skull. Hakoda dismissed the childish thought. It was just a headache.

No, earlier it would have been a headache. This was a _migraine._

The earlier bout of nausea returned, and he pressed his knuckles roughly against his lips, swallowing repeatedly. His knees began to shiver again, and he put one foot in front of the other in hopes to steady himself. He opened his eyes. His vision was a bit distorted, but he could see some what clearly. He continued to swallow, but removed his fist from his mouth. His neck was a little stiff, and he reached back to lightly massage it as he leaned away from the wall, which had begun to protest against the added weight. His legs felt all….tingly-ish. That was it. He was going to Saghani. He summoned his voice and called.

"Kids, c'mon, we're leaving." It took a second, but soon two sets of footsteps came down the hall and accompanied him.

He nodded, "Go on, you two first."

They moved past him. Nasak began to pull Temi by her hand again, and they leapt up the steps to top deck giggling. Hakoda forced hid body to do as he told it, and took a step forward. His knees shook a little as he put weight on it, but it wasn't too bad, and he walked forward.

The steps were a little harder, but he managed to get up on deck in time to see the children chase each other down the gang plank. He descended down onto the snow and called for them to slow down. They came to a steady pace at his side.

He clenched his jaw as the pain in his head multiplied. If it got any worse he'd be laying in the snow clutching his head in agony.

It took a few minutes, but they finally reached the roundhouse. Temi and Nasak dashed inside, Nasak reaching for her hood. Being nearly two feet taller, Hakoda had to push aside the thicket door and duck in order to enter. He frowned as he did so.

At the back of the roundhouse there was a small group of people. He could see Bama, Saghani and his mother, and he thought Ulva stood to the side. They were crowded around a mat.

Sokka's mat.

Hakoda pushed forward, jerkily making his way to the crowd.

"What's going on?" He asked. They ignored him. Bama turned to Ulva and whispered something.

"What going on?" He repeated. Ulva turned to him.

"Uh… Hakoda-!"

" _What's going on?"_ He demanded lowly. Ulva swallowed and straightened. She gripped his arm and pulled him back a little. He saw Bama grant him a narrow glance as he stumbled.

"It's Sokka." She said.

Hakoda eyes widened, "What happened?"

"It's getting worse." Ulva said, tightening her grip on his arm. "His fever is going up, and he's too weak to eat. Even if he did manage something it wouldn't stay down."

"Can you stop it?"

"It started this morning; it already took Buniq and Shilo."

Hakoda's heart dropped to his stomach. He looked towards Sokka's mat and shoved Saghani to the side to see him.

His son lay on his back. His head was tipped towards the ceiling, his eyes unmoving. His skin was white as paper, and his limbs were stiff at his sides.

He looked dead.

Hakoda swallowed thickly. He backed away. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He turned and stumbled out the doorway. He moved as fast as he could, out into the snow.

The aching returned as his heart rate skyrocketed. Every part of him throbbed with a newfound pain. His head burned and his shoulders tingled. His muscles stiffened, his jaw clenched tightly and he sank his teeth through the side of his tongue. He fell back in the snow, and his muscles began to convulse. His head jerked to the side, connecting with his shoulder. His left leg jerked upward to his chest, his toes curling in painfully. Things began to fade as spots danced in his vision, and breathing became increasingly difficult. A series of garbled sounds came out of his mouth. His jaw ground painfully into his shoulder. Things faded more, and all he could see was a tiny speck of white in his vision.

Then it all went black.

 **I've been told I have a flare for the dramatic. Too much? Next chapter should be up within the next week or so, please read and review.  
-PoisonBones**


	9. Chapter 9

**So I know I said I'd update in a week's time, but that didn't work out, but the next chapter is here. The lullaby at the end is a song from a book my mom used to read to me when I was little. She would always sing the last verse in the book. Please R &R.  
** **-PoisonBones**

The room smelled of smoke and bad sake.

Hakoda blinked blearily as his vision slowly stopped turning circles, the room coming to a stop in his sight. It was a wooden room, with beams across the ceiling to support the floor above. Lanterns hung from said beam, sending yellowy hues down through the air.

His mouth felt as though it was made of cotton, his tongue pulling apart the wispy layers as he tried to speak, and they absorbed his mouths moisture, drying his words before they passed his lips. He was sore and cramped, and every muscle screamed at him to either stretch out his limbs or curl into a ball. The right side of his jaw was stiff, and he could feel deep holes in the side of his tongue.

 _What happened?_

A soft clinking brought his head to the side. Bama stood in front of a low table, measuring green leaves in a bowl made of screen. She put a lid on the contraption and set it into a teapot, pouring boiling water over it and closing the top.

She sent a sideways glance to him, "Oh good, you're awake. I figured you'd be out for at least another day."

Hakoda swallowed hard. Grimacing, he asked, "Whir 'm it?"

Bama grinned slightly, "You're on my ship, in my healer's room. Or just my room, whatever you prefer."

She looked at him levelly, the grin slipping off of her face, "Temi told me that you came looking yesterday. Surely a warrior like you can become acquainted with a ship in a single visit, no?"

Hakoda grit his teeth. Bama wiped her hands on her dress and approached him. He did his best to scoot away from her, clenching his jaw and shimmying away. Bama put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips.

"Hakoda," She quipped, voice laced with frustration, "You have been unconscious for over twenty four hours. If I wanted you dead I could have done it and blamed it on the condition."

Hakoda grunted slightly. Condition? Was he sick? Did he have the plague?

The questions must've shown on his face, for Bama shook her head.

"You don't have the plague, and you're not sick, at least, not with any physical illness."

Hakoda attempted to furrow his brow, but all he seemed to achieve was an awkward twitch in his face. He swallowed again, poising his mouth to speak. Bama reached forward and shook a hand at him.

"No, no talking. It'll flex the muscles and right now you need to be relaxed." She pulled open the top drawer of her desk and removed a small clay container. She used her free hand to whip the furs off of him, revealing his naked body. Hakoda felt himself tense, immediately regretting it. Sharp tendrils of white hot pain stung randomly through his muscles. He groaned.

"Shh, shh, calm down and just _relax._ You need to relax. My treatments will be useless if you don't cooperate." When Hakoda remained tight, she pinched the side of his neck. His body went slack, releasing all tension. It would have been quite refreshing had he not been revealed in front of a woman. A _Fire Nation_ woman no less. It was unsighted territory. Kya was the only one who had ever seen him fully undressed, besides his mother of course, but not for many years, not even the men had seen him unclothed.

Bama sensed his discomfort and grinned, uncapping the clay canister, "Don't worry. You aren't the first man I've seen. Though I must say, compared to others, you aren't doing too badly for yourself."

Hakoda felt himself flush. She set the lid down and turned to him fully, "Now, as for your condition."

"You're stressed." She said matter-of-factly, "Have been for some time now. It finally triggered a physical response."

Bama picked a dried herb off of her desk and crumbled it into tiny bits, dropping the flakey pieces into the clay canister and stirring it with her finger, "You had a seizure, a severe one. I'm sure you remember that."

"This is a special oil I made, it will uncoil the twisted muscles and relieve a bit of the pain. I will need to apply it in circular motion in all areas." She gave him a look, "And I do mean _all_ of them."

Hakoda flushed again, and attempted to shake his head. No one had touched him that way for years and there was no way in hell he was letting a Fire Nation scoundrel like herself be the one to break him.

Though, he didn't have much of a choice.

It was warm, as though it had been heated by a fire. He felt it slick over his left leg where she had started. She rubbed it in her little circular motions, massaging it into the muscles just as it worked itself. He felt his muscles soften, and felt the smooth little cracks as the muscles popped out of the tight twists they'd been in before. She steadily worked it up his thigh. He found himself dozing through the procedure as she began to work on his other leg. It felt so good; he wanted to sink into the bliss, almost forgetting that the rest of his body still felt like he had been half drowned.

He almost fell asleep, but just as unconsciousness reached out to grab him, he felt and electric like jolt shoot through him as she touched his shaft. His legs, slightly numb from the process, came up instinctively, nearly connecting with her cheek. She jumped, yanking her hand away to press her forearm against his knees.

"Whoa!" She pushed his legs back down and looked at him incredulously.

He grunted, moving every which way he could. He tried to make his mouth work, he tried desperately to tell her off, but all he managed was a half strangled "No!"

Bama wiped her hands on her skirt and pressed a hand to his forehead, "You're exerting yourself. I told you, you need to _relax._ What was that? I gave you a warning."

Hakoda grunted again, grimacing. Bama dismissed his discomfort and re-dipped her fingers in the canister. She gave him a warning look.

"I'll restart at your mid-thigh. Then I will not hesitate to continue. Don't make me sedate you." She placed her hands on his body, starting where she said she would. Once again, she began to steadily make her way up each leg, working the oil into his skin with practiced hands. She reached his groin, barely hesitating, and he resisted the urge to curl up again. Bama continued to work in that area, her movements gentle, almost a caress. He let out an involuntary moan.

Hakoda flushed deep red. Bama spared him a glance, and grinned. His growl was cut off by another pleasurable surge. Her grinned widened with triumph, proud that she had broken the incapacitated man of his rough outer shell. She moved upwards to his waist, applying more oil as she went. She dug in deeper with her thumbs as she moved along his ribs. He had lost weight over the two weeks that they had been back in the village and he flinched as her fingertips hit each individual bone.

Bama reached his pectorals and lightened her touch a bit, working out the upper kinks in a matter of seconds.

"Most of the damage was in your legs and hips. You're pretty clean up here." She ran a quick massage over his arms and shoulders, gently going over his hands and fingers. She worked out his neck carefully, stopping when she came to his jaw line.

Bama wiped her hands on her skirt, "Alright, how does that feel?"

Hakoda took a moment to focus on his body, and was thoroughly surprised. His muscles did not scream at him, and he could freely move each limb accordingly.

"I-!"

"Don't speak." Hakoda grunted for what felt like the thirtieth time since he woke. How was he supposed to tell her how it felt without speaking?

A little voice in the back of his head reminded him of something his father used to say.

 _Sometimes you can't sail straight through the ice. Sometimes you have to dip and weave to make it work out._

Hakoda twisted his back, forcing his body onto its side so the he could face her. Forcing an elbow beneath him, he nodded enthusiastically, ignoring the fact that his head began to pound.

"Good." Bama stepped forward and picked up a small cup. She began to pour him a cup of what he supposed was pink tea into it. She brought it over to him.

"This is poppy tea. It'll put you to sleep." She leaned over a bit, letting him smell it, "I know you just woke up, but your muscles relax completely when you sleep, and right now relaxing is all you need to do so the oil can soak in properly."

She elevated his head enough to drink, slapping his hand away when he reached to do it himself. He was somehow not surprised when it seemed to begin working instantly. The moment the hot liquid rolled over his tongue his eyelids grew heavier.

Bama set the empty cup on the counter, "That'll put you out in a minute or two, but I am still going to light some incense to ease you off a bit."

Hakoda hummed. Exhaustion was settling into him, and a small part of him knew that a majority of the fatigue he felt was not the tea's doing. He was too tired to even fret when she adjusted him so that the pelt would not rub his groin raw. Smoke filled his nostrils with a sickly sweet scent as consciousness left him.

 **OoOoOoO**

Bama set the leather pouch down beside Saghani's mat, where the other healer slept soundly. She was good, Bama would give her that, but she was an amateur compared to Bama's skills.

But still good. She was a hard worker, and Bama admired that. Bama glanced around the roundhouse. She had administered each patient a dose of emetic and hour before dark and a double dose of yarrow when the vomiting stopped. It wasn't much, but it would keep them alive until she was able to map out the symptoms and link the cause. She was close, she knew it, she just had few minor kinks to work out, a book to cross reference, and she should be able to solve the puzzle. Hopefully before they lost anyone else. Bama had closely watched Ulva, the healing assistant. Kanna had told her that Ulva had lost both a son and a daughter within the first week. Bama looked over to where Temi had fallen asleep with the little boy she had become fond of. They were on the same mat, tangled together in a mass of limbs and fiery hair. She liked that boy, Nasak was it? She thought so. Temi had connected with the boy in a mere instant, rushing over to him and introducing herself to him the minute she locked eyes with him.

Temi was Bama's everything, she did not know what she would do if she were to lose her baby girl. Sink into depression maybe? She didn't want to even ponder it. She hadn't even thought of the danger she was putting her daughter in by bringing her to this plague infesting village. Well, whatever the cost, her baby was tough as nails. Temi could get through anything with both her body and her wits. She was a smart girl. She had a strong spiritual connection with anyone and everything she met. Bama had seen Temi make timid flowers bloom, make fruit ripen with a single touch. She was magical, her baby girl was. A blessed little being.

"Excuse me?" Bama turned to find one of the healthy village girls standing behind her.

"Yes, dear?" She asked her, turning fully.

The girl bit her lip and looked to the side. She was filled with dread, Bama noticed, her shoulders slumping and her posture loose, even her braid seemed to sag in anxiety.

She looked back to Bama, her eyes filled with fear, "Is my father okay?"

Bama blinked, taken aback. It took a moment before it finally clicked. This must be Katara, Hakoda's daughter and Sokka's younger sister. She had memorized the names and placement of the sick, but most of those who were healthy and walking had been pushed to the back of her mind, left as nameless beings so that she could fully focus on those who were ill.

"Yes," She said, giving a slight nod, "He woke; I did a treatment for his muscles and put him back to sleep. I will have him eat tomorrow, maybe get something other than tea into him before I put him under again."

A look of relief passed over her face, "Oh, thank the spirits. Really, thank you for everything you've done, I don't think Saghani would have managed to remain as calm as you have."

Bama gave a small smile of appreciation, "Well, thank you. Years of practice and knowledge," She tapped her temple with a finger, "Nothing goes right if you panic."

Katara nodded furiously. Bam looked around the roundhouse again, then back to Katara.

"Dear, why aren't you resting? Surely you must be tired."

Katara nodded again, "Yeah, I guess I kind of am, but all the mats are full and I can't bear the idea of waking someone just because I'm a bit tired."

Someone cleared their throat behind Katara, and she looked to find Kali standing behind her.

"Well, bear on no more," Kali said, touching the girls arm tenderly, "I've slept well, you may take my mat."

Katara smiled a little, "Thank you." She looked back to Bama, "And there really is no way to express my gratitude for caring for both my brother and my father."

"No thanks are in need, it's what I do." Bama said, "Go on and sleep, you've earned it."

Katara walked back to Kali's former mat and laid down. Kali came and sat down beside Bama, and began to play with the flame of a candle, brushing her fingers through it, slow enough to heat them, fast enough to not burn. She sat silently for a moment before looking to her daughter.

"Cracked it yet?"

Bama shook her head uncertainly, "I don't know. This plague is unlike anything I've ever seen before."

Kali nodded. She caressed her daughters cheek, "You'll figure it out. You always do."

Bama grabbed her mother's hand and looked at her in desperation, "But what if I don't? What if this is the one code I can't crack? They'll all die off and I'll be standing here helpless."

"Oh shush." Kali pulled Bama into an embrace, "You can solve this, and you _can_ help these people. And you will. Just fix it. It's like a puzzle remember? Just like the puzzles you and your father use to put together."

Bama hummed into her mother's shoulder, returning the hug, "Tried to put together, Uwa used to swallow the pieces."

Kali chuckled, "Yes, I remember." She smoothed a hand through her daughter's hair, "Shh, just rest."

Kali rocked back and forth slightly, humming a little tune as Bama began to doze off. And just as Bama fell asleep, she heard the age old lullaby as it was sung in her mother warm voice.

 _I'll like you forever  
I'll love you for always  
As long as I'm living  
My baby, you'll be_


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey, I'm Back! Yes I know it has been forever since I've updated this, but I got two words for ya: Writer's Block. Call it an excuse, but when my brain can't wrap around the concept of my story and produce another efficient chapter, I can't exactly be blamed. Those who have experienced this epidemic, feel my pain. But I give you the next chapter, so please. Favorite, Follow, and Review.  
-PoisonBones**

"If you're going to come you must be quiet." Bama's voice was soft, but firm. Going against these rules would result in punishment.

Temi nodded enthusiastically, gripping Nasak's hand in her fist, "We will, mama."

"Okay, come along."

Temi squealed, releasing Nasak's hand and darting out into the snow.

"Can't catch me!" She taunted. Nasak growled, taking off after her with surprising speed. Bama could not understand why the children wanted to be on the boat with her and Hakoda.

"To snoop." Said a voice below her. Uwa sat in the snow, petting her hands through the hunting dog's fur. When they had arrived, the dogs had been little more than skin and bone, but with Uwa's care they had returned to a relatively healthy weight, and now all five of them were cuddling against her like a child to its mother. Bama had once attempted to teach Uwa the way of healing humans, but her sister had been hopeless. She held animals in high self esteem, and before long she was running a veterinary clinic out of their shed.

Bama knelt down beside her, "What makes you say that?"

Uwa smiled, revealing her incisors, "Temi likes him."

Bama sighed, and looked out over the snow; two black dots fast approaching ships on the horizon, "I know. She talks about him, says he listens."

"He's a good man!" Uwa looked down at her lap, stopping her stroking of the dog, "It's such a shame that boy of his got sick."

"Yes," Bama agreed, "He speaks his children's names in his sleep. He is fitful, even under the opium."

Uwa blinked up at her, "You still put him under opium? But it's been nearly three days since his seizure, is it really necessary?"

"Well it wouldn't be if he would simply do as I say. He is skeptical of me, all of us, Fire Nation and all. I'm surprised at how well he handles Temi's infatuation with him."

"Maybe he thinks he can work some 'good' into her. Honestly, it's offensive how they perceive us."

Bama laughed, "Yes, it is slightly. A rather liberal view. But, what can you do?"

Uwa laughed, "Nothing much. When someone makes up their mind there is no changing it."

The dog beside Uwa began to whine and nuzzle at her, upset at the lack of attention it was receiving. Uwa continued her stroking.

"Uwa, there is something I wanted to ask you."

Uwa looked up at her, "What?"

"Do you still have that book on vertebrae that I gave you after Temi was born? You know, the one we used to treat my back pain?"

"Yes! It's in my cabin on the ship."

"Perfect."

Bama stood and brushed the snow off of her skirt, "I best be going. Before those two cause any trouble."

Uwa smiled lightly, "Yes. But, Bama, why do you need a book on vertebrae? Is it for the plague?"

Bama smiled sadly at her little sister, "I am going to have to perform an autopsy on one of taken. It will be gruesome. I need the book, because I have a theory that needs tested."

Bama face lit and her eyes watered slightly.

"I'm so close, yet so far, Uwa. I only pray to Agni that I can stop it in time for there to be hope left in Southern Water Tribes."

 **OoOoOoO**

The jerky thumps of Hakoda's feet against the thick wood of the ship flooring were beginning to irritate him.

He gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned white.

 _C'mon,_ He urged himself mentally; _You could do it perfectly three days ago._

"Are you sure you don't need help 'Koda?" Nasak held out a little hand, offering himself for support.

Hakoda managed a strained chuckle, "No. No, Nasak, I can do it. Besides, I'm bigger than you are. You wouldn't exactly be doing much."

The little boy crossed his arms and huffed, sending Hakoda the most intimidating glare a seven year old could muster. He did a surprisingly good job.

"Would _too."_ He demanded stubbornly, "Nunka says I'm really strong, which means I can help _you,"_ Nasak pointed a finger at him, "Down a stupid hallway."

Hakoda leaned against the wall, feeling playful. He arched a dark eyebrow, "Oh really? And just what proof do you have that you are strong enough to help me down the hall?"

Nasak stamped his foot, "I can carry fishing net! And two buckets of squid!"

He looked back at Temi, who had been standing aside, and waved an arm in Hakoda's direction, "Isn't it true Tem-Tem? Can't I carry two buckets of squid?"

Temi glanced between the two people before her and, catching the twinkle in Hakoda's eye, straightened her back and gave Nasak a smile, "Oh, I don't know, Nasak. That's a lot of squid."

The boy released a frustrated shout and stomped down the hallway, "Whatever! I'll show you! As soon as I find something heavy enough."

He stormed down the hallway to Bama's cabin, "Pfft, stupid girls, stupid grownups. I'm not lying."

Hakoda and Temi laughed. Hakoda winced slightly at the action, as it sent wave of force through his abdomen. Temi saw it out of the corner of her eye, and reached out, slipping her smooth, pale hand into his large, calloused one.

Hakoda raised an eyebrow at her, "I told you I didn't need help."

"I'm not helping you," Temi replied innocently, "I'm walking with you."

 _Lie, she's in charge now._

Hakoda allowed the small girl to lead down to Bama's cabin. She pointed a finger the small cot on the other side of the room.

"Bed. Rest. Now."

Hakoda chuckled and did as he was told, "Yes ma'am."

Nasak grunted from the corner, where he was playing with a toy soldier that had been carved from whale bone, "Told you, you needed help."

Hakoda sighed, "Boy, when I get off this mat, you're going to help me catch squid. Big ones, just to prove how strong you are."

Nasak looked at him, attempting to hold up his glare, but his mall face broke into a little grin, and he waved at Temi.

"You wanna play soldier? I brought my whole set."

"Yeah!" The children curled up across from one another, setting up their game, and before long both were making sound effects with their voices.

"Boom! I got you with my cannon!"

"Ba-bang, crack, smash! I just got three of yours with my club and crossbows!"

"I thought I told you to be quiet." The games froze. Bama stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, her features set in an oddly intimidating way. Hakoda suppressed a smile.

"Leave them be, Bama. I was awake anyway."

"And walking." She snapped, whipping her head to face him, "Directly against my orders."

Hakoda's face hardened, "I am not your prisoner, Bama. I can do as I please."

"Not on this boat you can't," She replied, "Children, take your game to the next room."

Temi and Nasak snatched up their pieces and fled the cabin. Bama shut the door pointedly behind them. She dropped the book she had been holding onto her work desk and crossed her arms.

"No, you are not my prisoner, Hakoda, but you are on my ship under my treatment and you will abide by my rules."

Hakoda scowled, "Oh, and what a _marvelous_ effect your treatments are having on my body. All you've done is feel me up."

"They would work if you would simply do as I say!" Bama's voice rose, quaking with anger.

"Then maybe you should make it work faster!" Hakoda's voice rose to match Bama's, "My entire village is in that roundhouse either consumed or surrounded by a deadly plague and all I can do is lie in this bed!"

Bama stood stock still, the anger fading from her face. Her heart, once pounding in her chest, lowered to its reasonable pace. She very calmly reached over her desk and began to brush things aside. She opened up the book she had brought with her, flipping to a precise page and laying before her. Pulling the drawer out, she removed a leather bound book and a piece of sharpened coal for writing. Placing all of her things side by side on the desk, she turned back to him. Her face was soft with a deadly calm, and Hakoda felt himself tense.

"I am doing all that I can to help both village and you, Hakoda. I have not been able to spend time charting symptoms and effects of the plague because I have been busy tending to _you._ I understand the stress, Hakoda, a feeling of helplessness. It is an awful feeling. But if you cooperate with me, and do as I say, you will heal, and you will be able to go and be with your people. But if you do not, I will be forced to spend more time here than there. Saghani is about to blow a gasket. The plague took Tartok this morning. That is actually why I'm here."

Hakoda felt his anger fizzle down to a dull burn in his chest. One part of him wanted to push the woman up against a wall, and bash her sideways for speaking to him like she wasn't a bit of lowly Fire Nation scum, but the other part of him knew that she was right, and that part was stronger.

Hakoda released a deep sigh, "I apologize. I'm just frustrated. Now, what does Tartok's death have to do with the plague? Besides his death of course."

Hakoda felt his heart pinch. He had never cared for Tartok. The older boy had always bested him at everything when they were children, and shoved his faced into it. Granted, many times he had wished the boy would fall face first into the icy chasm near the drop, but he would have been upset had it really happened, and certainly didn't want him dead.

"I believe I may have nearly identified this plague." Bama said, and Hakoda's eyes widened, "I must perform an autopsy upon a victim. I have elected Tartok. He was full grown, in relatively good shape. I will perform the operation in twenty four hour, after rigormortis has come and gone."

Hakoda gulped audibly and sat up on his elbows, "You're going to cut into him like a fish? What does Saghani think of this?"

Bama drew in a deep breath, "I did not ask. There of little room for bargaining in this Hakoda."

Hakoda brought a dark hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Bama-!"

"I was going to inform her of my decision as soon as I checked up on you."

Hakoda breathed out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, "Thank you, Bama. If I know Saghani, she will respond to the logic of the situation. Inform of the advantages; let her know that this could save lives. And please, please, _please_ do not mention anything to Katara. She will keel over in the snow."

"Will do. As for you, Hakoda. Bed rest. Did you eat the broth I left you?" She didn't give him a chance to answer, having noting the empty bowl when she first stepped into the room, "I want you to sleep now. The children have quieted down, and I have work to do."

Hakoda nodded, lying back onto the cot, "I will sleep. But please, no opium. I want to rest by my own accord."

Bama nodded, "Sweet dreams, then."

Hakoda closed his eyes. Bama sat down at the desk, pulled the vertebrae book towards her, and began to read.

 **OoOoOoO**

"Wha- what? Are you insane? No! I will not allow my husband's _dead body_ to become your play thing!"

Bama released a deep breath, tension building up in her abdomen, "Saghani. As you have noted repeatedly within the last twenty seconds, your husband is dead. He will feel no pain."

"That's not the point!" The young healer screeched, waving her arms wildly, tears streaming down her face. She and Tartok's eleven year old son, Ekta, stood wavering in the doorway. Bama gave him a hard look, and the boy retreated back into the roundhouse without so much as a second glance.

"Then what's the point, Saghani? That it will be a dishonor on his life?" Bama hardened her voice, her patience waning. She felt grief, but the livings were more important now, "Saghani, if I do this, I may be able to find a cure for this plague. This could save lives. Your husband is dead; do not let him go in vain."

A harsh sob ripped itself from Saghani's lungs, and she brought an elbow fast to her face, covering her nose and mouth. She was considering it, the possibilities.

"You- you will put him back together again after the procedure?"

"I am not a barbarian, Saghani, and this is not my first autopsy. When I am finished with my work you barely be able to tell I was there."

Saghani stood there, crying and shaking for nearly a minute before she sobered abruptly.

"Alright. You can do it, but only on one condition?"

Bama frowned slightly, "And what exactly _is_ this condition?"

"I perform the procedure with you."

Bama's heart skipped a beat, "You want to participate in your own husband's autopsy?"

Saghani gave a firm nod, a green tinge to her cheeks, "He's dead, you said so yourself. Tell me when.'

Saghani moved to elbow past her, but only got halfway before she keeled over began to retch, her arms wrapped around her abdomen as she heaved the contents of her stomach. Bama reached down and brushed her hair back from her face, running a hand up and down the length of her spine. Bama felt cold. Her own husband's autopsy. Participating. She deserved to be sick with herself.

Saghani spit, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her parka. She pulled herself from Bama and entered the roundhouse.

Bama kicked some snow over the mess and followed her, an icy stone of dread and bewilderment cuddling into the corner of her stomach.


	11. Chapter 11

"I can't believe you denied her such a thing."

Bama scowled in her mother's direction. Kali simply quirked and eyebrow. Bama sighed. She had told Saghani no when she had appeared bright and early for her husband's autopsy, her eyes red rimmed and accented by the dark circles beneath them. Bama found it sick that she would want to participate in the mutilation of her husband's body. The mental trauma alone was already pushing Saghani to the edge, the last thing she needed was to cut her husband open for information.

"She doesn't need this, Mama. Now help me."

Bama and Kali lifted the corpse up onto the table, laying him flat on his stomach. Kali moved to flip him over, but Bama brushed her hand aside, earning a confused look.

"His organs are mush, I know that," Bama ran her fingers along Tartok's bare spine; " _This_ is what I need to look at."

The scalpel was small and shiny, fitting neatly into Bama's palm. She used it create a long cut along the vertebrae. The skin split neatly, and no blood bubbled forth. The heart did not beat, and the crimson red did not flow the way it did in a living body. Kali's nose curled in a grimace, but she did not budge from where she stood with her hands clasped together on the other side on the wooden platform, which had been assembled by stacking pallets together. Bama reached forward, her practiced fingers moving in a nimble manner, and peeled the skin flaps apart. She poked a single finger in to locate the bone, but all she felt was a warm, squishy feeling.

Warmth?

She leaned forward and peered in between the carved skin. She gasped.

Along the twelve inch cut, exactly where the spine was supposed to be, was a long, thick line of multi-colored gunk.

"Oh _mama._ "

"What, what is it?" Kali rushed around to her daughter's side. She made an indistinguishable noise that Bama filed under 'disgust' and slapped a hand over her mouth. Bama retracted her finger from the mass, and it made a soft sucking sound. She examined the end of her finger. The substance was almost putty like, with small, red granules of what Bama identified as dried blood crystals after a moment of closer observation.

"Mama, hand me that tray." Kali picked up a small glass tray that had been set off to the side, and held it steady as Bama scooped out a large amount of the gunk and slapped it into. When she was finished, Kali screwed the lid on tight. She turned back to Bama.

"What's next?"

Bama looked back and gave her mother a triumphant smile.

"Nothing," She said smoothly, "If I'm right, then that sample is all I need to identify the plague."

Kali gave her daughter a small grin, but it held neither mirth nor happiness, "Well you best hurry. Lost another one this morning, little girl named Chu. Poor thing, bent over a bucket."

Bama nodded, "I will stitch him up here. Please take that out to the ship, I'll be there as soon as I'm finished."

Kali left with little more than a glance. Bama turned to Tartok. Grasping a thick sewing needle, she threaded it with black string, and began to sew.

 **OoOoOoO**

"Ooh, so close! Careful buddy, don't let go, you'll get fried up like a chickenpig." Hakoda watched in silence from his place beside Sokka's mat. Bato was holding a long staff, which was used for carrying water, but instead of buckets at the end there were two small children, one with auburn hair, one with dark brown, of whom he was waving back and forth over the fire.

Bama had released him from his wooden prison that morning, and he had been sitting beside Sokka for nearly three hours. Katara was bent down next to Tuktu, brushing hair from the young boys face and bathing it with a wet wash cloth. Sokka hadn't done much more than groan and shift and sweat, mumbling in his sleep, so Hakoda decided to follow his daughter's actions and pulled the washcloth out of the bucket beside him. He wiped it along his son's narrow brow.

Sokka groaned again, shifting to the left, "Mom…"

Hakoda bit his tongue. All morning. Sokka had been mumbling that _all morning._ Hakoda wished he could see. He wished he could see what would make his son speak the word with such anguish, but he couldn't. So he heaved a shaky breath and dropped the cloth into the bucket. Hakoda leaned back on his sitting bones, closing his eyes. He listened to Nasak giggling as Temi chased him about, having long since given up on trying to figure out how either of them could be so calm in the current circumstances. Bama had told him that Temi had eased Nasak's mind, but she refused to give detail into how.

Hakoda had been noticing things about the little girl. There was something about the tender way she stroked the sick people's faces, and how the tension seemed to ease out of them. The way Nasak seemed utterly carefree around her.

A mutter sounded from behind him, and he opened his eyes and turned to see the old woman, Kina, kneeling beside Kwan's mat. She pushed his eyelids closed, his sea green irises, glossy with fever, slipping behind the skin. Reaching forward, she grabbed the otterwolf pelt that had been covering him over his face, signifying his death. She stood and made her way over to Bato, who saw her once and nodded grimly. Hakoda stood on instinct.

He clasped his hands underneath Kwan's shoulder, resisting the urge to gag at the rubbery feeling of them, as Bato grabbed his ankles, and they carried him outside. A pyre had been premade, sitting out at the bank of the waters. A body, small and swaddled in blue cloth, lay upon the wood already. Chu, an eight year old girl that had passed away at just dawn. Kwan's body was large and awkward next to her small, undeveloped one.

Bato grimaced, "It's sickening how normal this feels anymore."

Hakoda turned away from the burn pile, "Come on, Bato. There are better things to be doing than wallowing out here."

Bato nodded grimly and made for the roundhouse, slipping through the door with ease and fading into the dark building. Hakoda turned and made way for the smokehouse, where Bama was performing her autopsy. The mother, Kali, stepped out, her robe fluttering behind her. He approached her swiftly. Something had been nagging at the back of his mind, something he couldn't shake, something he needed to know.

"Kali." He called firmly. The woman looked up, pausing from where she had knelt to grasp a handful of snow, "A word with you, if I may."

Kali stood, her eyes searching him, "Please."

Hakoda strode up beside her and plopped his butt down into the snow, gesturing for her to do the same. She hesitated, but after a moment he could feel her warmth beside him.

"Is something troubling you, Hakoda?"

"Yes." Hakoda replied. He reached into his pocket and removed the red hanker chief he had snatched from their ship on the day of their arrival. Kali's face went slack for a moment when she saw it, before tensing up as she looked away, "I want to know what happened to Temi's father."

Kali's head whipped towards him, "Why?"

"She told me that the North killed him. In the square in front of everybody."

Kali looked out to the horizon, her face blank again. She wordlessly held out a hand, and Hakoda placed the hanker chief into her palm. Kali ran her hands over the fabric, outlining the Fire Nation insignia with her thumb, stretching the material and holding it taught over the name.

"My son-in-law, Bama's husband, was named Seht." Kali looked to Hakoda, "He fought in the war for ten years. Then he became injured, paralyzed from the waist down, and the army sent him home with this hanker chief. In the Fire Nation, it is not an honorable thing to be injured and sent home from war. Frowned upon. So when he returned to the capital, where he lived, people turned their backs to him. Whispered things, spread rumors."

Kali stopped, staring out at the sea. Hakoda shifted his weight to face her better, "And?"

"He packed up his things. Got on a ship with his wheelchair and moved to Jeronci Island, where we're from. Bama was, oh, about twenty five or so. Unmarried, no children, and beautiful. Beautiful as a flame and the best healer for hundreds of miles. She laid him out on that operating table for no charge and gave him back his ability to walk. He woke up with feeling in his legs and a beautiful woman in his sight." Kali bumped Hakoda with her elbow and showed him a lofty grin, "And he stared. You know the way men do. Jaws all slack, eyes all aglow. He proposed, right then and there. Naked as a mooselion, balls touching the table she ate at."

"What did she do?"

"Bama told Seht that if he could walk a mile to the orchard and pick her the ripest, reddest apple from the highest tree in a weeks time, then she'd marry him." Kali laughed, "She sure underestimated him. Two days later he passed out on the front step, apple in hand, vomit on his clothes. She cleaned him up and put him to bed. When he was all better, recovered from surgery, they got married in the orchard."

"Then the soldiers came eleven years later. Water Tribe men, like you, but from the north. All clad in blue and animal skin armory. They took him out of the house in the dark of night, drug Bama out by her hair. Me my late husband, Lee, we were brought with knives to our throats, and Uwa with her hands pinned to her back by a cocky one. Set us up all pretty in the square, all of us in a straight line." Kali's eyes drifted back to the horizon, a faraway look in her eyes, "Beheaded him. Right there, in front of men, women, and children. Put it on a stake."

Hakoda sat silently, barely breathing. "How did you get away?"

"Someone threw a bottle. We all took for the woods. Ambushed by a man in the brush. He did away with Lee in the same fashion as Seht and brought his club down on Uwa before Bama speared him through the eye with a stick. Didn't kill him, we ran while he sat there screaming in pain. Bama was in shock at that point."

"We went to Kina. Lived with her. Temi was born two months later, in the barn with the dogs on a pile of old cloaks like mine here." Kali looked at Hakoda. Her face was blank again, no void of emotion, not even tears from a bad memory.

Hakoda sat there dumbly. He didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything _to_ say. They had slaughtered him. In front of an entire community. He could clearly envision Bama, young and youthful, sticking a man in the eye. Belly round with pregnancy, blood and dirt in her hair. It so tiring, realizing how easy it was to see all of it, and Hakoda slouched his shoulders, sinking lower into the snow that had long since numbed his behind.

"Are you satisfied, Hakoda?" Kali asked. Her face had remained blank for the most part, but Hakoda could see the weariness in her eyes.

"…Yes. Thank you Kali." Kali whipped her cloak up and marched right back into the smokehouse.

"Good. Come get the corpse from here, please."

Hakoda stood stiffly and retrieved Bato from the roundhouse.

 **OoOoOoO**

Bama was jolted by a feeling of sudden cold that washed through her. She leaned back in her chair.

"By the gods," She whispered.

"They're rotting."


	12. Chapter 12

"It appears we've been hacked, brother dear." The woman stood lean and tall against the firm wind that blew.

"I'm afraid so, sister dear." The man's voice was just amused and menacing as the woman's.

The woman leaned to the side, balancing her weight on one side. Her raven hair, drawn back into a Mohawk of sorts, stood in deep contrast to her pale skin. Her yellow eyes were annunciated by sharp cheekbones, and a line of dark tattoos along her brow. Her lean figure was covered by a plain brown cloak, and it was apparent that she was nude beneath.

"Well, Lues," She said, "It seems that the odds are tipping in my favor."

The man, Lues, scowled. His hair, raven like the woman's, was cut short, tight curls at his head. His facial features mirrored hers. Sharp cheekbones, yellow eyes, but no tattoos. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent, and it shimmered like wet paper in light.

"Don't act all innocent, Pestis." Lues growled in anger, "We both know that you've cheated in the past."

"Oh," Pestis laid a hand to her heart in mock pain, "Brother dear, how could you accuse me of such a thing?"

Lues huffed and sat down in the snow. He glared out at the icy waters, as if they were the cause of his frustration. He couldn't lose. Then it would just be another point in Pestis' box of wins, and all knew of Pestis' ability to keep you remembering your losses for centuries. Why, he still hadn't gotten a break for his loss at the Ganshi Mountains, where they had infested the lands with the Black Death.

"Oh don't go pouting." Pestis flopped down into the fluffy white substance next to her brother, "Besides, it _is_ only right that I win. I am the oldest after all."

Lues threw his hands in the air, "Two minutes! You are older by _two blasted minutes._ How many centuries are we going to argue about this? It doesn't matter who's older it matters who is more creative!"

Pestis huffed, crossing her arms, "It does _too_ matter. And we will argue about it until you've gotten it through your thick head that I am older and, for your information, more creative!"

Lues stood up straight and rigid, glaring down on his sister from above, "Well then fine. You may be ahead now, Pestis, but I have one more card up my sleeve and unlike you, _for your information,_ it will get me a win without playing dirty."

Pestis stood as well. A smirk came over her lips.

"If you're so cocky about this playing piece of yours, then you won't mind putting it into play before that Bama cracks something."

"Fine, _sister dear,_ it will happen today. Before Bama even gets a chance at telling Hakoda of her little discovery."

 **OoOoOoO**

Hakoda was warm, much too warm.

He laid a hand to his own forehead, wishing the heat would just go away. He had already stripped off his parka, leaving it on the floor of the roundhouse behind him. He had considered telling Bama of his ill feeling for a split second, before brushing it off. Any time she spent wasting on him could be used to find out just what this plague was, and find a way to cure it. It had been nearly a full day since Bama had performed her autopsy. Saghani had gone catatonic. She didn't speak or look at anyone. She just bustled about, admitting everyone yarrow to lessen the fever and mint to calm the stomach. The smell of the herbs was nauseating to the point where Hakoda had disposed of his stomach contents several times over the last hour.

Hakoda knew it. He had gone and gotten himself infected. He didn't care. Katara had silenced and secluded herself to either Sokka's mat or the dark places in the roundhouse, and Sokka himself had been asleep for nearly two days straight. The fevered mumblings had subsided in the dead of night, and now all Sokka did was breathe in unsteady breaths, which sounded more like raspy gasps of pain to Hakoda.

It sounded like the death rattle.

Hakoda bit back a sharp, overwhelming wave of nausea and leaned back on his palms. Every inch of his body ached with pain. Hakoda had been wounded before. He had laid out on battlefields as blood bubbled out of him, he had felt his bones break and his muscles splinter, he had falling into icy waters in nothing but a tunic, but nothing compared to this pain. This pain seemed to resonate from his very core, up his head and along his spine with a white hot burning sensation. His spine itself throbbed, sending little jolts of agony along each individual rib. He wanted to succumb. He just wanted to lie down and sleep for eternity, anything to take this blasted pain away.

He laid out flat on his back. The rough leather of the fur beneath him rubbed against his skin, making the pain worse, but he didn't have energy to move. He swallowed a bit of saliva, which was still tinged with the taste of bile, and breathed deeply. He began to drift off, the ceiling becoming hazy in his vision.

" _Ekki." Kya told Hakoda in the native tongue. Her thick brown hair fell over her shoulders, framing her features._

 _Hakoda threw his arms in the air enthusiastically, "C'mon! Even Kesuk is going!"_

 _Hakoda gestured back at the dark skinned boy who was lazily lounging on the canoe behind him._

" _An arctic hippo hunt?" Kya's voice sounded doubtful, "Are you all trying to get yourselves killed?"_

 _Bato's eyes shifted up from where he was tying a rope to the end of a harpoon, "This is kind of stupid Hakoda."_

 _Hakoda wheeled on his best friend, "Stupid? It was_ your _idea!"_

" _I didn't think you'd act on it."_

 _Kya snorted, "The idiot acts on anything dumb and reckless. Surely you should know that Bato."_

 _Hakoda turned back to Kya, "Hey! I'm not dumb! Or reckless!"_

 _Kya didn't stop. She turned away and made back for the village, "Fourteen years old and searching aided suicide at the hands of a water beast. Unbelievable."_

 _Hakoda stomped his foot childishly, "I'm not dumb!"_

 _Kya turned back and crossed her arms in front of her, "Really? Could've fooled me."_

 _Hakoda turned back and crouched down to where he had been packing a net, "Whatever. I'm going on this hunt Kya, you can't stop me, and when I come back with an arctic hippo in ropes I want you to eat your words."_

 _A sly smile slipped up over Kya's mouth, "Oh, I think I could stop you."_

 _Kesuk raised an eyebrow and Hakoda turned around ever-so-slowly, "How do you mean?"_

 _Kya turned and started for the village again, "I'll give you a kiss."_

 _She glanced back at him, "On the lips."_

 _Hakoda was out of the boat and halfway up the slope before Bato or Kesuk could even blink. Bato began putting the roped harpoons back down into the floorboards. Kesuk heaved a dramatic sigh._

" _Ah, that moron." He huffed, crossing his arms, "She's got him wrapped around her finger like a bow and he don't even realize it."_

 _Bato narrowed his eyes, "If that was Auga, you'd be running too, you piss-willy."_

Bato shook himself from his dream. He yawned, and his back popped loudly, stiff from sleeping on the firm floor of the roundhouse. He stood and brushed himself off. He had fallen asleep on one of the outer lying mats. The dream was nostalgic, a memory from his childhood, but also painful. Auga wasn't around anymore, and Kesuk had sunk into depression, much like Saghani had begun too. Not talking or looking at anyone, not even working like she was. He just hovered.

It seemed that all who were healthy -or at least uninfected- just hovered. Over the sick's bed mats, in the dark parts of the building, only drawing out from their reclusive hovels to eat the shallow bowls of broth and relieve themselves.

He glanced around, half expecting to see Katara or Hakoda mulling about, but he saw neither. Katara was asleep off to the side, and it appeared that Hakoda had dozed off beside Sokka's mat. Bato moved in between the mats of the sick, not looking at them. He bent down beside Hakoda and shook him lightly.

"Hakoda." He said quietly. No response.

"Hakoda." He said, a little louder this time. Hakoda didn't as much as stir. Dread pooled in Bato's stomach.

" _Hakoda."_ Bato slapped Hakoda on the chin. Hakoda groaned and shifted. He was paler than normal, his face taking on a more sallow appearance. Sweat beaded at his forehead, running down in salty streaks. His body was gaunter than usual, thin and bony. He resembled a corpse. Bato swallowed and leaned back on his heels, looking up at the ceiling. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. It- it just _couldn't._

"Katara." Bato's voice carried out of the roundhouse, and Ulva's head turned in his direction as well. Katara shifted and sat up. She looked over in Bato's direction, unable to see Hakoda's unconscious form.

"Go get Bama." Katara's eyes widened and she bolted off of her mat. She rushed by the others, coming to a stop in front of him. Panic took her features when she heard Sokka's raspy breath and saw her father laying on the floor, her uncle bent over him.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her voice strained.

"Nothing's wrong," He said quickly, perhaps a bit _too_ fast, "I just need to speak with her."

Katara sucked in a breath. She didn't believe him, that much was obvious. She didn't budge either, standing her ground in front of him.

" _Go."_ He urged. That was all it took. Katara backpedaled, disappearing out of the roundhouse in a matter of seconds. Bato turned his attention back to Hakoda, wiping the sweat off of his head with a wet cloth from the bucket behind him and pressing his hand to it. Hakoda was hot. His forehead was on fire. Bato rinsed the cloth out with water, which was dirty from use, and folded it into a cold compress. Laying the towel on his friends head, he looked to Sokka. His breath was so weak. Hakoda would chastise him for paying more minds to him than Sokka. Bato didn't care. Sokka was strong, and he was better looking than Hakoda at the moment, even with his breathing so fragile.

Katara arrived not a minute later with Bama in a tow, She pointed a finger at Hakoda, and Bama's eyes widened. Without a word, she bent over him and pried back his eyelid, revealing the whites of his eyes. She took his pulse and his temperature, everything Bato had seen her do for the infected. But Bama's face was not set like stone the way it was when she checked the infected. Instead, it was twisted with horror.

"What?" Katara asked frantically, "What is it?"

Bama snapped her mouth shut and looked to Bato. There was pain in her eyes.

"Bato-" She started, "I-"

Bato snatched up Bama's shoulders, "What is it woman?"

"Bato," Bama's voice shook fiercely.

" _He's dead."_

 **OoOoOoO**

A swampy, putty like substance supported him.

Hakoda blinked the groggy feeling from his eyes, staring up. A canopy of green filled his vision. Leaves, like on trees, bent downward towards him. The sky behind it was dark purple, ever shifting in his gaze.

Hakoda sat up. He was in a forest. What, a forest? Hadn't he just been in the roundhouse? A chuckle drew him from his thoughts.

Two hooded figures stood before him. Shadows masked their faces, all but two set of glowing yellow eyes hidden from sight. Hakoda swallowed.

"Who are you?" He asked, "Where am I?"

Another laugh. One of the figures brought a hand to its hip.

"Well I must say brother dear, this certainly is an interesting twist."


	13. Chapter 13

Hakoda blinked. The hooded figure who had spoken crouched down next to him. Pulling down its hood, it was revealed to him as a woman. She was beautiful, he supposed, but there was something menacing about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Perhaps it was the eyes, a vibrant, coursing yellow that seemed to teem with a morbid curiosity. She brushed a hand against his brow.

Hakoda attempted to move away from her touch, but something had seemed to freeze him in place.

"Who are you?" He tried again, but his question was a cry on deaf ears. The woman completely ignored him, and turned to the other figure, who had yet to pull back their hood.

"A clean one," The woman said, "But I fail to see how this will help you win our little bet."

The second figure removed their hood. It was a man. He looked closely like the girl in front of him, with matching faces, matching eyes, even matching jaw lines. They appeared to be siblings.

"Well, I haven't yet gotten my time with him, have I, sister dear?" The man asked, arching a dark, delicate, eyebrow. The woman scowled.

"Who said you get time?"

"I do."

"Excuse me." Hakoda gasped out. His lungs were suddenly aching, throbbing as though he had run miles. His head spun in dizzy circles, feeling as though it were too heavy for his shoulders, which were suddenly stiff and cramped. His legs felt like static, as though they had fallen asleep and he had just begun regaining feeling in them. His abdomen was completely numb, save for the sensation that there was a very large stone where his stomach was supposed to be. The two people looked at him. The man gave him one of interest, the girl just looked bored. She snatched his arm and pulled him to his feet.

Hakoda stumbled with the feeling of earth, or something earth like, it was a gray, rubbery substance, beneath his feet. The woman simply held his arm as he struggled to keep his balance. After a moment, the man came forward and clasped his other arm, keeping him from falling flat on his face.

"Easy there." He said, "I'm afraid you will be at a loss of your body for a small while. A journey to the spirit world can do that, even to a soul."

Hakoda swallowed hard. The spirit world? But that would mean…..

"Am I dead?"

The woman gave him a look of surprise, "But of course! Totally dead. Stone cold, grave worthy, kick the bucket _dead."_

The man scowled at the woman, placing both of his hands on Hakoda's shoulders, before looking at Hakoda with a pleasant smile, "But not for long. Don't mind my sister; she's just a bit sore that she's not getting her way."

The woman scoffed, "As if I'm that petty. Anyways, didn't you have something you needed to do with him before we zap him back into his body? It won't stay fresh for long, you know."

The man bowed his head, "Allow me to take care of that, Pestis. Go pout somewhere."

Hakoda's head continued to spin rapidly, and the step he took as the man gave him a small tug would have sent him tumbling had the man not been there.

The man chuckled. He lifted Hakoda like he was nothing, raising him off the ground and carrying him away. He tried desperately to push him away, to get back on the ground, but attempting to move his head made a sudden and fierce nausea waft up from his abdomen. The man held him sideways like, almost bridal style, but with Hakoda's stomach pressed to his chest. Because of this, his head just lolled off of the man's shoulder, increasing the upset feeling of his stomach.

Abruptly, the man stopped, and set him down so that his back was against a tree, or what he preferred to assume was one, for the alternative was a scary thought. The man kneeled down beside him.

Holding out his hand, he said, "My name is Lues, I am a spirit of pestilence. I must speak to you, though I'm afraid taking you from your body was the only way to do so."

Hakoda didn't trust his stomach enough to open his mouth. He shifted as best he could away from him.

The man, Lues, sighed, and withdrew his hand, "I understand your reluctance to cooperate." He gestured to the trees around him and the sky, looking up, "All this, it must be so new for a mortal." He looked back down at Hakoda, "Foreign even."

Hakoda swallowed the bile that was steadily climbing up his throat, "What do you want with me?"

Lues stood suddenly, "Just to converse. Ask about your life, your feelings. Grasp a deeper understanding of you poor, fickle beings."

Hakoda opened his mouth to retort, but instead he lurched forward gagging, and spit up a mouthful of clear fluid. It was tasteless, save for a small, sour tinge that came as he gagged again, spewing more fluid.

Lues made a tch noise with his tongue, placing a hand on Hakoda's shoulder. "It is saliva. The one fluid in your body that death does not expel, therefore it leaves your mouth once you get here."

Hakoda convulsed violently. The gagging subsided, but he continued to shake and shiver as though he were freezing. Lues placed an arm around Hakoda's shoulders, another under the crook of his knees. Lues drew him in to his chest, standing, and Hakoda was being carried again. He didn't protest with words, but he moaned slightly as his head jerked roughly and smacked into the other mans pectoral. Lues took notice and shifted him slightly.

He touched Hakoda's back gently, and the light began to fade in his vision.

"Shh," Lues said, "It will all be over soon."

 **OoOoOoO**

Hakoda woke with an incredible weight on his chest, but when his eyes flitted downward there was nothing there.

It took him a moment to remember to breathe.

He gasped loudly when he did, clutching at his chest as though he had been drowning. He was lying on a bed, a sturdy bed that did not creak when he scrambled to sit against the headboard. His breath was ragged and uneven, and he swallowed hard a few times and tried desperately to catch it. A small shuffle sounded behind him, but Hakoda was frozen in place it seemed, and he could not turn to look at who was standing behind him.

"Oh, you're awake." A familiar voice said. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor resonated forth. Hakoda strained to turn his neck, to look at whoever had spoken, but it seemed there was an invisible barrier that was rendering him unable to move his head past his shoulder. He pressed harder as he heard footsteps nearing.

"I have something for you." The instant the voice spoke, the barrier was gone. Hakoda had been straining so hard that that the disappearance of it made him whip his head much farther than he expected, and he tumbled to the floor at the sudden lack of force.

Lues, who held a cup of clear liquid in his hand, blinked at him from above, "Careful, you can damage your energy that way."

Hakoda sat upright with scowl, scuffling to stand. Lues raised an eyebrow, and Hakoda swayed, sitting back down on the bed. Lues chuckled.

"Here," He said, holding the glass of what Hakoda assumed was water out to him, "This will make you feel better."

Hakoda accepted the glass thoughtlessly, peering down into it and rotating it. It was not water, that of which he deduced by its consistency. It was too thick, a bit syrupy. It clung to the sides of the glass as he turned it, and he grimaced.

Lues chuckled again, a deep, handsome, sound, and nodded his head, "It's harmless, just a bit of something to heal you a bit."

Hakoda took a small sip. It was thick as it entered his mouth, but seemed to dissolve as it fused with his saliva, taking on a more watery consistency. It was extremely salty, he found, and he winced at the strength of it.

Lues sat back down in the chair that he had pulled out to stand, the sound Hakoda had heard, "My sister and I are expert healers. That is a special recipe meant for discerning spirits from irrational material aspects, such as pain or fear."

Hakoda swallowed hard, "What is it?"

"The lymphatic fluid of a female Esreal seal."

Hakoda sputtered. He stood quickly, slamming the glass down on the desk as he wiped his mouth furiously with his sleeve. Lues had the audacity to laugh loudly. Hakoda growled, clenching his fist and glaring at him angrily.

"Is this a game to you? I'm dead and you're playing parlor tricks!" He snapped. If looks could kill, Lues would have been a smoldering mass upon the floor, melting through the floorboards and dripping onto whatever was beneath them.

Lues stopped laughing, but a grin remained. His looks were not menacing like the woman, Pestis' were, but they were undoubtedly the same. The woman bothered Hakoda, even just to think of her, as she looked like him endearingly.

Lues arched a dark eyebrow, "These are not parlor tricks, I really do have something to share with you, but I cannot do so until your spiritual energy has aligned with the plane. The lymphatic fluid of the Esreal seal has qualities and compounds that speed up and clear this process much quicker."

Hakoda growled again, "I am _not_ drinking that."

The grin slipped away, but there was no malice, "Yes, you will."

Hakoda grit his teeth and leaned in closer, "I'm not doing anything until you tell me what's going on."

Lues stared at him, and Hakoda felt a small pool of regret form in his stomach. He didn't know who this guy was. He didn't know _what_ he was, what he was capable of, or what he was willing to do in order to get to the means necessary for his benefit.

But Lues just continued to stare. Hakoda held eye contact as best he could, deciding to at least pull through with his angry threat, and he became painfully aware of Lues' eyes. They were like jewels, all glittery and yellow, almost catlike, with brownish flecks running from the pupil to the outside of the iris. They were exactly like the woman's, and also… not. The woman's were filled with malice and morbidity. Lues' eyes held something different, something more kind, more feeling, more affectionate. Or they were just eyes.

Hakoda felt the tension leave his muscles as he stared into the yellow orbs, and his jaw went slack. Were they moving? No, Lues was holding eye contact with him as well. Perhaps it was a trick of the light… no, no they were definitely moving. Lues pupils acted as a standstill as they irises rotated around them slowly. Hakoda continued to stare at them, mesmerized.

"I didn't want to have to do this." Lues said. His voice was far away in the back of Hakoda's mind.

 _They're so pretty,_ He thought, _Like yellow pearls._

"But I'm afraid you're cooperation is vital in order for me to gain the upper hand over my dear sister." Lues cocked his head to the side, "I really wish you would just drink the remedy I acquired for you so that we may get on to business."

Hakoda imitated the cocking of his head, albeit a bit sluggishly. He straightened, standing up.

 _Maybe I should just drink the remedy he acquired for me so that we may get on to business._

Hakoda picked the glass up off of the glass and downed the whole thing in a single gulp. He set the glass back down on the desk.

"Perhaps you should lie down as well," Lues said as he turned back to face the wall in his chair, "After all, that remedy takes a small bit of time to circulate through your system."

Hakoda wandered over to the bed, _Maybe I should lay down for a bit too, to let the remedy circulate through my system._

He laid himself flat on the bed, straight like a pin. His arms tight to his sides, his legs sticking out towards the far wall, facing upwards to look at the ceiling. It was then that he took time to be aware of his surroundings.

It was room built of mahogany. All the walls, floors, and even the ceiling were crafted from the dark wood that grew in the western Earth Kingdom. The wall nearest his feet was made up of built-in bookshelves, and was lined with a variety of thick novels and medical almanacs. The bed he laid on was pushed against the wall in the middle of the room, the desk Lues sat at was to his right, and a small nightstand held a lantern and another thick book. There was no dresser in sight, or another door that could have led to a closet.

Lues stood abruptly, but Hakoda did not look at him, he simply stared at the ceiling.

"I did not want to have to do this," Lues said, coming to stand behind him. Hakoda flicked his eyes in his direction, "But I'm afraid it was the only way to get you to cooperate this far."

Lues cocked his head to the side, just as he had done before, "You've been doing quite a bit of resting haven't you?" He uncocked his head and smiled, "Not to worry, you need it. So just rest a bit longer, everything will make sense when you wake up."


	14. Chapter 14

_Hum, hum, hum_

Hakoda's eyes opened from the unending blackness with a sudden movement of the head, and he stared upward, just as he had when he had slipped into the dark.

 _Hum, hum, hum_

The sky above him was… swirling. It twisted and turned and bubbled, a funny brownish-green translucent color. A humming rush sound filled his ears, almost painfully, but he was completely relaxed. He sucked in a deep breath, surprised at how easy his lungs filled. The air was cold as it entered him, chilling him to the core. He breathed again, steadying his breath to an even in and out pace, listening to the thrumming in his ears. Where was he?

 _Hum, tick, tick, crack_

The humming was pierced by the sounds of skittering. Hakoda turned his head to the side in search of the noise. A stone drifted past his feet, knocking other pebbles and heavier rocks out of the way, carried by an invisible current.

 _Oh,_ He thought calmly, taking another sudden deep breath, _I'm underwater._

It was then, and only just then, that he began to drown. The water crept into his lungs, seemingly seeping through his pores into the fleshy organs that supplied him air. More stones rolled by as he struggled to raise his body upward to swim towards the surface, but another invisible force, almost like the one before, held him back. A burning pain began to fill his abdomen, working its way through each individual rib all the way to his throat, cutting off his air supply. He could only raise his head an inch from the bottom where his head rested, and his arms and legs were paralyzed. The edges of his vision began to blur together in darkness.

And just like before, the barrier was gone. Hakoda rushed to the surface, expected to spit and vomit water like he had before, but instead he sucked in a lung full of air and the burning was gone. It was as though he hadn't just nearly drowned. He felt perfectly fine, save for the profuse huffing he was doing.

He was sitting in a creek. Clear, cold waters rushed over his legs and torso, carrying stones down the stream where it disappeared behind the bend of a tree. Hakoda was in shock. He was already dead, and he nearly drowned?

"Hey!" A cranky voice from behind him said, "Get out of my creek!"

Hakoda whipped around to the sound. Behind, standing on a tree root in front of a room carved into a tree trunk, about three feet away, was a monkey-like creature. It was sitting in lotus position, its thick, white fur sticking out in every direction. It was clad in a draped red robe, held over the shoulder by an orange clasp. Around its neck was long string of cockle shells.

"W-what?" Hakoda choked, frozen in place.

"I said," The spirit ground out, standing and glaring at him, its furry hands in fists at his side, "Get out of my creek. You're disrupting my meditation."

Hakoda pushed himself up, frightened by the spirits angry tone. He stood in the creek, letting the water rush over his feet and ankles.

"Where am I?" He asked, "How did I get here?"

"Who cares?" The spirit sneered, "You are still in my creek!"

Hakoda flinched as the spirit yelled, its spittle hitting him in the face, "I-I'm sorry, sir, I just-"

The spirit pointed to the other side of the bank and leaned in close, "Out!"

Hakoda turned and scrambled, splashing some water up on his face to wash off the spittle as he went. He climbed out of the creek on the other side, tripping onto his face as he went. Standing again, he turned back around to face the spirit. Maybe if he could find out where he was he could find out how he'd gotten there and where Lues was.

"Excuse me?" He called. The spirit was sitting back in lotus, its eyes closed.

The spirit cracked open an eye when he spoke, glaring again, "What?"

Hakoda swallowed, "Did you happen to see a man here? Dark cloak, black hair?"

The spirit huffed and closed its eye again, sinking lower into its lotus position, but after a moment it tipped its head to the side and looked thoughtful, "I suppose I did see a man in a cloak with dark hair." The spirit opened its eyes pointed behind Hakoda, "Very, very, very far in _that_ direction. You should go there."

Hakoda scowled, realizing just how helpful this spirit was going to be. He sighed; Lues needed him for something- wait…

"Hey spirit!" He called again, making a point to cup his hands around his mouth and make the sound louder.

The spirit growled a little bit. He put his hands on his thighs, elbows up, and glared at him, "What?! You are disrupting my meditation!"

Hakoda rolled his eyes, feeling bold, "Yes, I know, but I'm afraid that needs to wait for just a few moments. Have you seen Lues, spirit of pestilence?"

The spirit glared for a moment more, but the glare broke and he rolled his eyes. Returning to his lotus position, he closed his eyes.

"I am not a map, you fickle mortal soul."

Hakoda scowled deeper, "Well I am in need of assistance, and you are the only one I can see at the moment who could possibly help me."

The spirit cracked and eye open, "Walk where I pointed too then. Lues always turns up when he needs to."

Hakoda took a deep breath. Finally, some cooperation.

"Thank you for-"

The spirit grew angry again, whipping his head around to face him, "No! No speak! You wanted to know how to find Lues and I told you, now go! Stop disrupting my meditation."

Hakoda closed his mouth with a snap and turned around, stomping through the underbrush. He was in a forest now. That blasted spirit, he just needed help and it got offended. Hakoda sighed. He _had_ been intruding a bit, so he supposed it was not without reason that the spirit had grown frustrated. He walked for a while. The trees grew thicker as he walked; standing only a few feet apart from one another, and the brush began to tangle around his ankles and threaten to trip him.

He was battling a rather feisty one that had strangled his right foot when a deep chuckle came from behind him. He turned quickly. Lues was leaning against a tree, grinning.

"It seems," He said, sounding amused, "That you have managed to enrage Naka."

Hakoda growled, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lues pushed off of the tree, snapping his fingers. The vines around Hakoda's foot retracted, slipping back to the underbrush where they came from, "Naka, the monkey spirit you spoke with earlier. Such a story behind him, really, it's amusing."

Hakoda frowned, "His name is Naka?"

"Yes," Lues said. He reached forward and brushed a piece of bark from Hakoda's tunic, "It means medium. He is a psychic."

"In life he was the advisor of an emperor. Said emperor was having an affair on his wife, and Naka was sworn to secrecy."

Hakoda raised an eyebrow, "So?"

Lues chuckled, "He could not lie to the queen, so he told her about it, and she killed herself. In repent the emperor had him beheaded before his court for treason, and cursed him to a single place in the spirit world for the rest of eternity. That is why he is so impatient."

Lues withdrew his hand and folded it behind his back. Hakoda's eyebrow remained raised.

"And you're telling me this why?"

Lues' smile grew wider, "Because life leaves marks in this after world. It can poison."

Lues moved past him, walking forward. He shot him a look over his shoulder, "Just fruit for thought. I am here to do my business with you know, so if you may follow me?"

Hakoda stared at Lues back as he walked away. Business, he needed him for something. He sighed and jogged to catch up with him. He had been here the whole time specifically for this reason, and all he had done was beat around the bush, or rather been beaten around the bush, since he had arrived. He fell into pace just behind Lues, looking at the man's back as they walked.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, before Lues came to an abrupt stop. They were in front of a field. It was not dark like the forest, but the sun was shining on it, and it carried on for miles. It was filled with flowers. Red one, pink ones, blues one, tall and small, they filled it all the way, there wasn't a single spot not occupied by a flower.

"What are we doing here?" Hakoda asked, inhaling the sweet scent that assaulted his nostrils.

Lues looked at him, his yellow eyes swirling again, "This is where we will hash out our business." He looked out across the field, "Here is where I find I can make the best points. It's a peaceful place."

Lues stepped into the field. As a person who lived in the water tribes, where no vegetation save for ice herbs like yarrow grew, Hakoda had a deep appreciation for plants, and he found himself worrying that Lues would crush a flower should he step on it, but that was not the case. The stems bent away from Lues' foot, avoiding from getting destroyed. Hakoda felt his eyes widen as he watched Lues take another step, and the flowers bent away.

Lues cast a glance over his shoulder, "Are you coming or not? I know you're curious as to what I have to say."

Hakoda chewed the inside of his cheek. Looking at the ground, he hesitantly allowed his foot to hover over the flowers. Lowering it slowly, the flower stems bent away from his foot, allowing him access to the cool ground. He lifted his foot back up. The flower stems straightened back up, standing tall.

With a deep breath, Hakoda put his foot down again and followed Lues into the field.


	15. Chapter 15

Hakoda was to flowers as a hound was to its prey.

Kesuk had once said that if they were in a poor zoo, with garbage and animal feces and piles of unimaginable junk with a smell enough to make even the strongest gag, Hakoda would be able to find that single honeysuckle that had sprouted up the wall.

Hakoda had rolled his eyes and retreated to his cabin as the men laughed, though they were not exactly wrong. They were his drug, his addiction. Kya, he remembered, had always loved the pressed flowers he would bring for her. She would breathe in the sweet scent and smile.

"One day," He remembered telling her fondly, when Sokka was only a few months old, "I'm going to find a way to bring you a living flower. I'll take you with me if I can't, to see one yourself. To the fields of the Earth Kingdom, where they grow as tall and beautiful as you, and far as the eye can see."

He never got the chance. It was then that Hakoda wondered if Kya was there. Was she in the spirit world? Was she cursed, like the psychic monkey-spirit Naka, to a single place?

Had she seen these flowers?

His eyes scanned the flowers with a curious eye. They had been walking for what seemed an eternity, and the woods they had walked out of were nothing more than a line of black specks on the horizon behind them. They were beautiful, possibly the most beautiful he had ever seen. They were the tulips seen in artist's paintings, the roses seen in lover's dreams.

 _I wonder if Temi has ever seen a flower like this_ , Hakoda thought, _Or if her little magic hand has touched one wilting and brought it to a beauty like it._

"You've grown fond of her." Lues' deep voice said. Hakoda realized he had gone by the pestilence spirit, who had parked himself among a cluster of daisies. He had walked right past the man, standing five feet ahead of him.

"What?" He asked dumbly, frowning.

"Temi," Lues said, smiling. "You have grown fond of her and her spirit hand."

Hakoda's frown deepened. He didn't deny his fondness for the child. "Spirit hand?"

"Blessed little thing." Lues said, looking off into the distance, "Life sprouts in her fingertips. Who knows what spirit blessed her, most likely a healing one. In reward for Bama's healing hands, she got a little blessed child."

"She was gifted by a spirit..." Hakoda muttered doubtfully.

Lues looked back at him, his eyes drawing back from the horizon, "You've seen her touch soften the faces of the sick. I know you have, because you were just wondering if she had blossomed a wilting flower."

Hakoda sighed. He was beginning to grow bored with these spirits. None of their abilities seemed to be surprising. Healing with a touch, appearing and disappearing into thin air, and now reading minds. Was there anything they couldn't do? Walk through walls? Fly?

Hakoda shook himself from his thoughts, used to but not kind to the idea of having his mind rifled through like a bookcase. He scanned the field for what felt like the millionth time. _Beautiful flowers_ , he thought, _just beautiful._

"Where are we?" He asked, mentally counting all of the purple trumpet flowers he could see among the stems.

"This is a peaceful place." Lues said. "It has many names. Valley of Beauty, the Fields of Asphodel, though there are so many more breeds of petals."

Lues bent at the waist, his long, slender fingers chasing the stem of a dahlia. The stem wriggled, much like it had to avoid Hakoda's feet, attempting to escape the grasp of its chaser. It lost the battle as Lues moved quicker, his fingers closing around the base of the stem and, with a gentle tug, pulled it up from the earth. He straightened again, twirling the stem in his fingers. Hakoda watched as the dark red petals fluttered like a butterflies wings, before stilling and wilting completely within a span of five seconds. Lues stepped forward and tucked the dead dahlia into the flap of his tunic.

Hakoda opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again slowly. A sickly sweet scent filled his nostrils, travelling all the way up his nose and into his brain. After a moment of stupor at the smell, Hakoda looked around the field again.

 _They really are beautiful,_ He thought, _I'm lucky to have one in my tunic._

Lues smiled at the hazy, drugged look on Hakoda's face.

"I think it's time we took a look at our business." He said firmly.

Hakoda's head turned to him ever so slowly, "We should." He said softly, "In fact that is the most wonderful of ideas."

Lues bowed his head and placed a hand on his chest, "I know your village is under the most creative of spells."

Hakoda stared at him blankly.

"Your people have been taken by plague, and even your son has fallen ill." Lues said as he stood lifted his head. Hakoda looked a bit thoughtful.

"I must say they have." He said. His voice was quiet and soft. There was no trace of anger or frustration, or even the sadness that had sat on his chest since his wife's death.

Lues sighed, the amused look slipping off his face, causing Hakoda to frown, "I suppose there is only one way to say it."

"My sister and I are the ones responsible for your village's downfall."

Hakoda continued to frown. Lues could count the lines in his face, could name the reason for each one. He had quite a few laugh lines, Hakoda did. Lues began to grow anxious at Hakoda's silence. Pestis had always been so blunt about their trifling with mortal life, in fact she craved it. His twin sister was a candid thing, and she got high off of the displeasure of others. She relished in the powers of her spirituality. She used them continuously, never stopping enough to even breathe. If she were there with them, she would be making the flowers bend and sway with her telekinesis. Lues had never been able to stomach his sister's way of abusing her powers.

Hakoda made a humming noise in the back of his throat, the frown disappearing and being replaced by a lazy smile.

"And what else other business do we have than that confession?" He asked. His voice was tired, stoned.

Lues decided honesty was best. It was his fault he knew, that Hakoda was this way; the fragrance of the spirit dahlia put one in a calm haze. Anyone under its effects would not be angered or ill, not even truly happy. They would be in a state of constant high, not becoming overworked about even the direst of things.

"It was a contest you see." Lues said, "Between me and my sister."

"We made a disease in a test tube and fed it to an infant as the mother slept. We made a bet on you and your life, Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, and then we poisoned your son in the same manner and put your daughter and mother in a state of distress. We infected the nineteen year old boy who had only seen a single battlefield. We killed your rival and his wife."

Hakoda said nothing.

"We captured your mother's bird, headed for the Earth Kingdom, and released it on the bays of Jeronci Island. We sent you a beautiful healer with a fatherless daughter, a lonely grandmother and an elderly woman with the attitude of an enraged rooster-hog. We sent you a girl who was once genius, her brain caved in so deep she cannot function through everyday motor skills and sleeps among snow and dogs."

Hakoda raised an eyebrow, but his face held little to know question, "What were you betting on?"

"I can't tell you that." Lues said, and he couldn't. It was the one thing him and his sister had agreed on: Hakoda knows nothing of the bet. Pestis had stressed how cruel it was to tell Hakoda all of these secret things that no other mortal could know, and then deny him the one knowledge he may truly desire to know.

Hakoda hummed. He swayed slightly, as if the gentle breeze was blowing him like a leaf.

"Why," He asked slowly, his voice nothing more than a whisper beneath laughter, "are you telling me this? I don't need this information. It's nothing to me. Knowing this is _nothing._ It does me no good to understand why things are happening the way they are, and I don't particularly care either. I stopped caring when the stress and anxiety caused my body to seize and put me in a twenty-four hour comatose."

Hakoda chuckled a little bit, leaning forward like a drunk, "I stopped caring when my _son,_ my _baby,_ started vomiting blood. When my daughter became reclusive to me and everyone she loved."

Hakoda began to laugh, "I stopped caring when a Fire Nation woman came to my home to _help us,_ and I let her, even though the Fire Nation has been the cause of all my misery since my wife's death."

"And I liked it. Sure, I became snappy and impatient but I _enjoyed_ having a good looking woman being bent over me, her breasts only inches from my face. I enjoyed having a happy little girl running around, and hearing her call out "Momma" without thinking, and not immediately remembering the gruesomely horrid death of her mother. To see her face light up when she was picked up or held by her mother or grandmother, or even Kina, that grumpy old bat. I liked it when I could hold her hand and she'd laugh and smile, and give me a handful of snow and act as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world. I liked not caring, I still do. It's so free; I feel it wouldn't matter if anything happened. Anything would be better than this hell."

Hakoda sobered, looking out over the fields again, "Don't you get it?" he whispered.

"Don't you get that I have no reason to care?"

Lues felt as though he had been smacked across the face. _He's going mad,_ he thought to himself, _Bat worthy, raving mad._

It was useless, he realized, Hakoda's words sinking in. He was right; he had no reason to care. He just wanted it to be over. This whole mess, as bloody and sick as it was, he just wanted it to be over. He didn't care how it started, if it was a bet; who was in on it. He didn't care if they all died or if they all lived, as long as it was _over._

"I think I understand." The spirit said, "My sister would relish in watching your village burn, but your misery sickens me."

"I have more sympathy for you creatures, odd as you are. I'll never truly understand how your little minds work." Lues held up his hands, palms facing upward, "But it will always be an intriguing puzzle."

Hakoda looked down at the man's hands, raising his own and looking at them. His mind was dazed, and he could only blink stupidly at his fingers. Lues grabbed them, Hakoda meeting his gaze.

"I am done with you. I shall take you back home."

Lights danced in front of Hakoda's vision, and the only thing he could clearly see was the man in front him. The field began to fade around him, leaving his vision. He looked down at his hands. An orange hue danced from them, racing up his arms and shoulders. The flower tucked into his tunic shook lightly, as if a breeze were rustling it. His vision began to blur, and he he looked back up at Lues.

The last thing he saw was the man's smile, and the last thing he heard was, "Give it to Bama. She will know what to do."

 **... I think I should leave this here...**


	16. Chapter 16

**I think I owe you guys an apology. I don't even the last time updated this. I have hardly written anything in damn near a year and I'm sorry for leaving you all hanging. But I've managed this chapter, though I know it's a little short, so please enjoy and have a Happy New Year**

 **-PoisonBones**

" _Give it to Bama. She will know what to do."_

Hakoda slapped himself in the chest, sitting up straight. There were several gasps and a startled cry from behind him as he did so, but all he could manage was a quiet, "Oh."

Bama appeared in his vision, gripping his shoulders and forcing him to look at her. He blinked at her. She was twenty shades of pale and clammy, her eyes were teary, and her mouth was slightly agape as she stared at him.

"You..." she breathed, "you're alive..."

Hakoda frowned, "Of course I am. Here, take this, you'll know what to do with it."

He reached into his tunic and withdrew the flower that was pressed there against his skin. He placed the flower to her breast. She jumped, nearly recoiling as he touched her and falling backwards onto her bum. She looked at the flower blankly, analyzing it carefully. Her features betrayed nothing but dumb curiosity before shifting to incredulity. She closed her mouth and looked up at him, swallowing hard.

"Where did this come from? You weren't holding it a moment ago."

"He gave it to me. In that other place, when I was dead. He said to give it to you." Hakoda felt his heart shift in his chest at the look she gave him. Pure relief... was she hurt that he'd died? He did die, didn't he? He couldn't remember. Oh, his head hurt, and felt as though it was stuffed full of cotton.

Bama was silent for a moment, studying his face. She almost looked as though she would reprimand him when she started, quickly standing and clutching the flower to her chest.

"Well I do know what to do with it." She said. She turned around and made for the back of the roundhouse, calling for her mother. Kali Shot up from the floor and seemed to almost float to her daughter. Temi and Nasak, who had been curled up listening to a story the woman told, shifted over to Kina, who scoffed and threw a ball of animal hide twine at the pair for disturbing her nap.

"Mama," Bama started as she bent down by her medicine basket, "stoke up the fire. Boil a whole pot of water."

Kali retrieved a bucket and went to scoop snow to melt, tossing another log on the fire as she went. Bama was hunched over an earthen bowl. She stripped the flower of its petals, dropped them, the seeds, and the stem all into the container. She began pulling bottles of herbs from her kit, measuring them into her palm before dumping them into the bowl at a rapid speed. When finished, she grabbed a thick, porcelain pestle and began to grind the herbs to dust.

Hakoda was trying to clear the cotton from his brain, but all he managed to do was make the headache worse. He was starting to feel sick, and he moaned slightly as the bucket of snow clanged against the side of the metal soup cauldron. He made to lie back on the ground beside his son, but strong hands stopped him. He whipped his head around to see Bato. His friend was looking at him with the same relieved expression that Bama had given him, and the man wrapped him into a bone-crushing hug.

"I don't understand it." He muttered senselessly into Hakoda's ear, "You were dead just a minute ago."

So he did die then. The cotton in his forehead receded a little, but remained, stubbornly clouding the identity of the man who'd given him the flower.

He just couldn't _remember,_ he knew it had been a he, but as soon as he thought he had come to a conclusion of who it had been, the cottony feeling pressed forward, making his head throb and his stomach churn. _I just need to remember;_ he thought to himself, _I hate not being able to remember._

At a tight squeeze from Bato, who still held him tightly, Hakoda moaned.

"Don't squeeze me like that, Bato. Lay me down, I feel sick, like I'll be sick at any moment. Lay me down."

Bato released him quickly and laid him gently on his back, pulling over a bucket. Hakoda didn't move. The nausea began to recede slightly as he lay still, but his head only throbbed. He could feel the hard pulsing of his temples and wished they would stop, if only for a second, so he could gather his bearings and not vomit on his friend. His mind began to drift away, into the pool of sleep. He shivered, and Bato pulled a blanket over him.

"I have to go help the others. Katara will watch you." Bato's voice was distant in his ears.

Hakoda was asleep before his friend moved away.

 **OoOoOoO**

Kali hissed as the water bubbled up and burned her hand. Full to the brim, boiling water spit over the edge of the cauldron at times, wetting the dirt around the fire pit.

"Bama, the water is ready." She called back to her daughter, pacing impatiently at the back of the building. At her mother's voice she turned and strode towards the fire pit, cradling her earthen mortar bowl in her hands.

"What is that?" Kali asked, peering into the bowl curiously, "Did you burn it?"

In the bowl was a small pile of what appeared to be black ashes. She could see small bits of leaves and seeds of various herbs she recognized, but they too were pitching black.

"No, mama, I did not burn it." Bama said, looking into the cauldron, "it was the flower Hakoda gave to me. It simply appeared in his tunic when he was dead for a moment."

"As soon as the other herbs touched it, they blackened." Bama held the bowl out, leaning forward, and reached a hand into the bowl. Kali frowned.

"But where would a flower grow here? We are surrounded by snow, miles and miles of it. And besides, what flower would do that?"

"It was not an ordinary flower mother," Bama said, holding the bowl contents in her palm over the boiling water, "it was a Spirit Flower, from the Fields of Asphodel in the Spirit world."

She rotated her hand and let the black herbs fall. The water sizzled as the substance touched it, and lavender smoke began to waft up from the cauldron. Kali coughed as she inhaled it through her nostrils. The smell was horridly sweet, like hot sugar burning on the stove, and began to quickly fill the room. Kali covered her nose and waved her hand about her face, wishing for it to float through the hole in the roof and away into the night.

"Don't mama," Bama said, "breathe deeply, it smells badly for only a second."

Bama pulled the long piece of twine that dangled from the ceiling, closing the trap and sealing the hole in the roof. The trap was used to keep heat in the building after the fire died, and now it successfully trapped the lavender smoke inside.

Kali kept her face hidden, expecting the smoke to fill the room, but it didn't. It smoked for only a second longer before stopping. She watched as the smoke seemed to dissipate into the air, wafting to each edge of the room. She uncovered her nose and took a tentative sniff. The smoke was no longer painfully sugared. Instead, a sweet smell filled the room, a lovely smell, like flowers on a warm spring morning in their village. Kali breathed deeply.

Bama used the cooking ladle to stir the cauldron. After a moment, she spooned a small amount into a bowl and held it up for her mother to see. Kali grimaced. What had once been clean water of melted snow was now a blackish tea in the bottom of the bowl.

"What is it?" Kali asked, taking the bowl from her daughter and swirling it.

"That, mama," Bama said, spooning more into another bowl, "is the cure to this plague."


End file.
